the charm of the highway strip.

one of my favorite things in the world is driving at night. i often delay trips so that i can maximize the hours spent in the dark, lulled into a sense of calmness by the music and the glowing red lights of the cars in front of me. sometimes i listen to a single song for an hour or two, starting over each time i mess up a line. it helps me clear my head. i never want to stop; i just want open road, i want the vastness of this world to make me comfortable with how small i am.

it’s no secret that, to paraphrase samuel beam, i want to live like my ghost will live. i long to travel, invisible to everything, save for those for whom i choose to appear (i don’t know if i really buy into that last bit). the night makes me anxious usually, but only when i try to sleep. i often lay awake where a thousand and one lonely thoughts creep in and thrash about. someone once told me that all i needed to do was turn my thoughts into waves and envision those waves crashing into the beach and let them steadily become quieter, until they’re just part of the landscape, the everyday, and you don’t notice them anymore. it worked for her; my seas, on the other hand, are always populated by sharks and shipwrecks and portuguese man o’ war.

i’m frightened that if i sleep i’ll miss something important. in grade school i hated being absent because invariably one would come in the day after being sick and hear about something that happened in the classroom or during recess and then be awash in regret. i’ll always be a child, with big green eyes, taking pleasure in minute details and plumbing the depths, wary that, without warning, i can be engulfed.

excuse the poor segue: i attended the magnetic fields show in raleigh, alone. upon arriving at the meymandi concert hall at the progress energy center for the performing arts (i think they could have successfully made the name longer), i sat on a bench inside, pretending i was waiting for a friend to arrive. there was a couple sitting beside me, who fortunately only stayed until the intermission, as i couldn’t stomach much more trivia from him or outbursts from her — when someone on stage mentioned boston, she shouted, what’s the score of the game? i overheard one of the tickettakers describe the crowd as odd. apparently she’s not familiar with irony.


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2 Responses to “the charm of the highway strip.”

  1. RichieRich Says:

    Stephin Merritt has a new musical version of Neil Gaiman’s Coraline! –

  2. Heartburn Home Remedy Says:

    I follow your blog for quite a long time and should tell that your articles are always valuable to readers.

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