Filling Spaces With Air and Wild Tangents
Something that shouldn’t be anything
My ears are plugged while I drive. Why? I like to choose what I listen to, and I like to listen to it alone. Today, the music is louder than usual. I’m having a bad day. I only notice this when I press the horn, but I don’t hear it. The only evidence of the sound is the low throbbing vibration. I press it again, even though the need has passed, just to feel the hum on my finger tip again.
The music blares in my ears, but I have no idea what song is playing. I can’t hear it. And I realize that I’m not really driving either. At the point that I realize these things, I start to hear the music, and on some level, listen to it, and I continue driving. I can see the road again. There’s a bent and broken streetlight that lies on the demarcation of the road, pointing at oncoming traffic. Like a silent threat. “Drive onto this demarcation and I will certainly wreck your car, and depending on your speed, maybe kill you. Don’t underestimate me, I’m not like all those other standing streetlights.” I hear this threat and slightly turn the wheel away from it. Even if I wanted to dare it, there are two other people here, and one of them is sleeping.
I sit back and watch and passively listen to my thoughts take wild tangents. The questions, the possibilities, the mistakes, the regret, and of course, the “What if…” variations of the past. This is why I listen to music. This is why I have to listen.
I’m writing this because I had to prove to myself that I can write. I had started to forget what it felt like. All I do is read these days, and a lot of the things I read are tweets. Sadly. I’m writing this to prove that the problem isn’t that I can’t string the words together, it’s that I fear that I might make a mess. Make something I don’t like and not be able to get rid of it completely. To have the ashes remind me of something else I used to do, and like doing, but can’t do anymore. A testament that time is passing, and it’s changing me. Making me something less. So, I won’t be reading this. So I don’t change my mind. Not that it’s much of a mind anymore.