Fruition.

I crashed my car today.

That’s not how I pictured my first post to start. I pictured myself pondering on the thoughts that had been playing in the back of my mind. Writing what I can’t say. Expressing my desires. Ridding myself of the burden of thoughts I don’t want to have. But, no. I crashed my car today (not deliberately of course — although it may appear that way as I continue to ramble).

The interesting part of this whole thing isn’t the ridiculous amount of money I need to spend to pay for damages, and it isn’t the fact that I have no idea how I actually managed to crash my moving car into another. The most interesting part is that I’ve been in some morbid way been fantasizing about crashing my car for several weeks. Every time I started my car and drove off to do some benign, menial task I imagined myself crashing into the car in front of me, swerving into the next lane of oncoming traffic, or deliberately accelerating into an old, established tree.

Don’t take this as me wanting to die. No, I’m far too curious to see how my life plays out, far too in love with my parent’s happiness, and far too excited to see how my friends flourish into the successful, whole humans I know they’ll be. No, I don’t want to die. I believe I wanted a jolt. I wanted something to jolt me awake, out of my stupor and into the world. I wanted to know my passions, my calling, and why I was forced into this life I am so lucky to have.

There’s a possibility a part of me thought a blip such as a car accident would do that. It didn’t.

I don’t know what I wish to accomplish through doing this. Probably to process what just happened. To distract myself from the looming shadow of expensive repairs and insurance policies I now have following me around. Whatever the reason, it won’t change the fact that I crashed my car today.