DRIFT — PIERCE ME
I was given a difficult name by a friendly group of alien shadows that I’m trying my best to forget, but the more I endeavor to leave it behind me the more of these lapses I get. They certainly help me accept who I am, but I nonetheless miss drifting my car throughout the entirety of my day. I’m incredibly short and bald and very aware of what happened to me. If this gift enabled me to drift even more I wouldn’t have complained, but ever since I started rapidly expanding inside my head nothing excites me more than having the car perfectly still on the side of the road.
I have found that between these bouts of delusion I reawaken to higher knowledge; underneath this impression nestles a whirlpool of dreams that softly whirrs in the formless penumbra beyond my existence, a phantasmagoria of life’s many incoherencies that pushes down against the palpable deeper patterns my soul carries like dirty laundry to that nameless place, hard pressing the things I habitually witnesses throughout the day into a goofy looking jewel; a precious misshapen gem that slowly resurfaces to the beautiful oceanic sky of my being, permitting me to silently ponder in the palm of my right hand what it means to be short and bald in a magical yet totally practical way.
I don’t think the shadows feel about drifting the same way I do, otherwise they would’ve kept their insane gift. How can I explain the sublime frenzy of drifting through portal mirrors lining the insides of our Sun while infinite copies of my dad stand outside listening in to the solar flares my wheels make in profound and silent approval?
Alas, all things must come to an end. As I was trying to woo a scantly dressed maiden of drift the name the shadows gave me burst through my mind’s eye with the same searing intensity of a Mazda RX-7. I excused myself smiling like a maniac now that I remember my name it’s clear to me that I should die as soon as possible! But since I’m childless my body is immune to total destruction, this is something I found out through the commanding, telling crunch one of my gems made in my mouth, having such a specific structure and texture that it perfectly sounded out through my lips the age-old story of the sacred ritual my family practices to preserve their bloodline. Such luck, just as I was getting close to my Fair Lady of Burning Rubber, impregnating her with my little assistant driver would’ve broken the curse! So I sat down in my ROCCO chair and started shouting really loud inside my head for three consecutive days.
On the fourth day I sat up to get coffee, instantly my vision dimmed to pitch black and my sense of balance disintegrated. Although my eyes were wide open I tried opening them further but there was something very soft holding them back. I couldn’t see shit! But then I started seeing something.
It was a strange wavy desert consumed by wind that has no sound, an invisible oily force stirring a half-buried group of cryptic edifices that lay huddled between medium sized dunes and particularly nothing else, some parched ancient time that felt way before the great Pharaohs, a hazy orange purgatory that stared back at the Sun.
There I was at the outskirts dressed in a bright brown robe, swirling my breaths into my bellybutton. My god this soberness had doused every silly, distracted thought with ice cold water.
To some extent my heart knew it was going over to uneasy heresy, but despite the bent I was convinced it was the beginning of my Epic Drift, however unusual that my mind’s eye stared at the village and its peculiar structures with self-effacing curiosity.
This world oozed strange, complex feelings and I implore you to go through them as if they were your own, for it’s the only way to conjure up the images in your mind.
It was beautifully harsh; so as the desert ate away at this forgotten place, I felt some sort of a cathartic spiritual fatigue — which was incomprehensible to me — it was unlike anxiety, it was slowly suffocating me… I took one deep breath and summoned one golden echo, through that emotional mess the memory of my old Miata came and dragged with it all that which bothered me, dropping in my hands with a gentle mechanical purr a warm cup of mental clarity, a comfortable lucid swirl of my mother’s milk sprawling inside a cup of coffee, I sipped enough to fully restore me, to make me go through this troubling arrangement — now it’s obvious to me the purpose of this place.
Ah, the savory realization that I could achieve complete and utter understanding of asphalt, pedestrians, highways and exits, to drive my old Miata with the perfect mystical knowledge of the road ahead — eternally embracing the feminine curves of my neighborhood’s intersections, and to ever come so close in kissing the long full lips of my city’s pavements, only to leave it tantalizing with the gentle touch of shredded rubber, lusting evermore for an unspeakable drifting taboo.
Each building had different dimensions: a unique blend between the tower of Babel and the Roman Coliseum, an impossible number of carved glyphs covering every still-standing centimeter, yet I couldn’t look at each one separately, examining them was useless however painless it was — my eyesight quickly slides to somewhere else, as if I was forcing two similar magnetic poles to meet, no matter how much I tried I couldn’t open up to the particulars of these buildings!
So I focused on myself again.
In the periphery of my eyesight one particular building caught my attention, there was something moving inside of it — a lively dark smudge dripping like engine oil into an ill-formed mass: the inhabitants, it must be, tens of humanoid figures wearing black robes and hoods, moving in tandem in separate groups to and fro the calm desert and their dilapidated cathedral, receiving some sort of sky teaching every time they stop outside, with their white feet fit snug into the red sand.
Sometimes what they hear pleases them, they cheer and pat each other, and sometimes it makes them angry so they shout back at the clouds and the azure sky, but nonetheless they return the cycle. If there were any girls among them, the sand babes! Bodies of black iron and eyes of pure gold!
The distance between me and them overlapped with a memory gap, and although I wasn’t sneaking up on them I tried to unassumingly join one group. To my surprise they were quick to uncover themselves — they were all human males — quicker still was how they strangely criticized the way I fell from the sky — which I have no recollection of whatsoever — saying I should’ve made a circle with my body before landing, instead I was as stiff as a board and I fell on my back like an ass. What!
That made me incredibly angry! I struck one of them in the face with my fist but before he could recover they all clamored and carried me outside. As they were hurrying I noticed that there was an old woman with them now. I didn’t struggle and I didn’t know what they were planning to do with me but all the same they threw me up a good distance up in the sky, and I fell down on my back again. I couldn’t stand their abominable sight anymore! With incredible strength I shoved them all aside then stormed out.
Their transgression was unbelievable to me, and I normally allow things that are obscene, I must’ve been terribly vulnerable — what does my descent from the sky mean? I don’t remember the act yet it evoked incredible emotion in me. Was it their disapproval that I hated most? But I used to continuously drift my car! I don’t need approval!
Outside that half exposed structure I found that a woman was waiting for me, and motioned me to follow her. I went to another huge building, but that one had an inconvenient number of floors with half a meter in height between each. When I got closer and walked through the curvy path dividing the building into two, I saw that it housed thousands of embalmed corpses. Every two corpses were opposite each other, face to face on their sides all were adorned with different bony necklaces/jewelry unique to every couple. She told me that once a spouse dies the other has to stare at their corpse until they die as well, and this is their resting place, exposed to the wind and sand. Hmm! A perfect spot for me and my Maiden of Drift!
I decided to go back to my previous group, but they told me that I was not allowed back on account of my actions, and instead I’m to join the other group, which was all female. Here I don’t remember the rest. :’)
Must’ve been the sex! Because it was all for nothing! I came back even shorter and a million years older! And there are no cars anymore! Matter of fact, I wasn’t even on Earth! But I will tell you the rest later.