This red piece of metal I’m navigating can’t take away the simple fact.
The simple truth that I can’t
see what’s in front of me.
This road is desolate and burning, as am I.
I’m slowly beginning to burn.
But not from the heat, it’s something else entirely.
My system feels like it’s shot to Hell, but I know it’s only the beginning.
I’ll be to Hell and back before nightfall.
My surroundings are as clear and bright as ever.
The sky looks like glass.
I look up and watch it seethe right before my eyes.
The roaring of wings obstructs my hearing; a sea of black obstructs my view.
I feel the pavement beneath my steel joyride breathe, its words inaudible.
Its heartbeat becomes louder and
stronger with every touch of the rubber and chrome.
My skin is burning now; I can feel it slowly sear through each layer.
I have absolutely no direction,
absolutely no control of where I’ll be going next.
All I know is that I have no one here to stop me, no one to break me away.
I’m too deep inside this world I’ve created for myself, too deep inside each and every dose.
The sound of wings abruptly brings me back into this distorted reality, the blackness doesn’t fade.
I look in the rear view mirror; my reflection is something of another kind, shot to Hell just like the rest of me.
I can still see the ocean of black; it’s followed me for miles now,
no intention of stopping anytime soon.
My hands are still on the wheel,
but my body isn’t in the driver’s seat anymore.
I’m floating into the sky that
is still aflame and smoldering.
I’m unsure if I’m alone, I can’t remember anyone coming on with me.
The passenger seat seems to be empty, but that could be the fact that he’s lost in the sky with me.
He looks just as bad as I do, I see he’s shaking, I don’t remember if I’m shaking or not.
I strangely feel the wheel again; he’s next to me now.
He’s crouched over, his head in-between his knees, blood flowing fast.
Or what I think is blood.
The bleak look in his eyes tells
me that he’s out of it, which means I am as well.
I look on the floor by his feet, blood everywhere.
My head falls back into the seat;
my vision goes blacker than it already is.
I wake up; my vision is much brighter than before.
I can’t remember if it’s night or day, I can’t even remember where I am.
I’m lying in a massive pool of water, empty bottles of vodka and whiskey adrift.
Searching my memory of the night
or possible day before, I can’t trace how I got here.
I’m unsure of how much I took, or of what exactly I took.
Maybe I took more than one thing
or maybe nothing at all.
Maybe all of this is a dream.
An illusion devised by the
intense heat and my resolve, leading me to this utter destruction.
Maybe it all just proves how
disgusting and corrupt the world is.
Everyone is so provoked by their own negligence.
My vision is more precise than it’s ever been, I can feel my fingers effortlessly glide across the keys of my typewriter.
Documenting the frightening and surreal events brings me to the crossroads of shock and excitement, my intentions once innocent are now borderline manic and crazed.
The exact thing this generation needs.
We’re all so preoccupied with the
preconceived notions of our predecessors to evolve and blaze on forth.
So indecisive to that we’ve forgotten what it’s like to truly be human and just let go.
There is nothing stronger than the fear that resides in
the hearts of all of us.
The fear that there is some destructive danger, some heartless peril that will swallow us whole.
The paranoia that makes us
believe that slipping through the cracks of the society’s view of what it truly means to be a man is strictly forbidden.
Silence such cowardice.
It only breeds ignorance.
We searched for the American Dream only to find it was
never truly meant for us.
We searched for the American Dream only to create our own,
any other perceptions
We found the American Dream.
Just. Let. Go.
© Copyright November 2012