My mind has been on driving for a while now. I took a vow that as soon as I got my license I'd be out of here. Where is here, exactly? Do I expect to leave all of these worms behind? Honestly, what do I think is going to happen... Nothing. I've got a snake tied to my foot and it's striking at my chest because it's the only part of me that moves as I breathe.
I've got to get this done soon or I'll leave it for later and nix the whole thing entirely because it's sounds stupid once fed back into my own ears. But the beauty of it is that at the time it sounded perfect. One must learn to respect his own spontaneity despite its danger.
Young people are naturally drawn to risks. We are physiologically attracted to our own destruction. Is that what I attribute these urges to? Do I owe my need to go and lick the ground for a few minutes to how many years I've been alive? I've discussed this previously.
Is this stream of consciousness style too upbeat for you? Shall I switch it up.
I sank into the passenger's seat with a thunk. Car door slam (wow car themes again, don't call me inconsistent). "You just can't seem to get it right, can you?" my brain says with a sneer. I ignored it and picked at my finger nail, then sank further into the cushion at the realization of forgetting shit in my locker. All the same, maybe it was some subconscious upheaval of all responsibility.
No see it doesn't work this is still just my brain talking about shit only I care for. The name "stream" is pretty fitting but maybe "spurt" would work better. Typing this shit is just a handle for the door to what goes on inside my head all day. I don't start thinking this way every time I hit "New Post", rather: it goes inside this box instead of looping back around the curves of my spine.
A certain thing has been giving me trouble recently. Whenever I exit passenger side, and go to shut the car door, I shock myself. The metal slaps my hand back with a snap of invisible lightning. Sometimes I remember just in time and plant one foot on the front lawn before touching the door but this is a poor substitute for a remedy.
I really like the name Isaac. Or John. Have you ever noticed that you can't name your kid the name of a person you dislike, even if you liked the name itself to begin with. Enemies have a funny way of having a lot more loyalty than some friends. If I dislike someone, I just decide to not give a fuck about them because hate is a form of caring, and why should I care about the asshat who stands still in a hallway of moving people? Seriously get out of the way or I will push.
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