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[Preface]
I'm not sure exactly when I wrote these... but I can promise you I wrote these anytime between 20 and 30 years old. lol I don't think after that. But my concept of time is fucked. I just know I haven't written anything like this in over 10 years. But, here's a look into my writing past.
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Random puffs of fog paint my window and then rapidly disperse. The cloud of fog increasing larger with each breath I take. Droplets of rain streak down the sides of the windows… one droplet chasing after another… Ironic how you can see resemblances of life on a rain covered window of a car… and yet you aren’t aware of your own life as it is happening. The cold air is rushing on my fingers from the side window of the car as I throw out my half-finished cigarette. The music feels thick all around me… perhaps because it’s a familiar old song. The rain drops that are streaking down the window are my tears… but not on my cheeks for I’ve cried all that I can. The rain mocks me. It laughs at my melancholy grandeur. As I continue to watch the rain fall onto the car windshield… I realize that my tears aren’t done after all. I feel the warmth from them running down my cheeks and then the instant cold they become. I’m seeing metaphors of life everywhere tonight…
I start the car engine and turn the heater on full blast… yet another metaphor. Fake warmth found in other things, denying myself of what I really want… So I turn off the car engine again. At least I have control over one thing… plus, I really should save the gas that’s in the car. It’s going to be a long drive. Why am I doing this to myself? Am I glutton for morbid revelations? The windows begin to fog up rapidly without the heat to chase it away. My fingers start to ache from the cold. Cold… cold… metaphors. Fuck. This has got to stop. I begin pounding my fists against the top of the steering wheel while choked sobs escape from my tightening throat. “This isn’t fair…” I say audibly. I’m now crying freely. I don’t care if anyone hears me. I don’t care if anyone sees me.
I can hear cars driving by me at high speeds… yet I can’t see them because of the thick condensation on all of the windows. It’s strange… but it seems like when the roads are wet, the louder the cars are. It’s strange… another metaphor. I reach into the glove compartment and pull out my cigarettes. I stare at them idly for a few seconds and then draw one out and light it.
I wipe away my icy tears with self-ridicule. I guess sometimes when we think we’re all grown up and we’ve learned all there is to know… We learn new things and realize we never stop growing. The music is still thick all around me… It probably would help if I didn’t have this song on repeat. At the same time, it doesn’t really hurt anything either. It lets me live in the moment.
There’s several loud rumbles of thunder outside… and yet I still can’t hear it. I can only feel it. All I can hear is the music. More metaphors… I wonder if I’m going to be plagued with them from now on. I can’t help it. There’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve made my decisions. So did he… Why am I waiting? Am I expecting things to change? I instinctively look down at my cell phone. No new calls. How many times have I checked now?
A shiver from the cold rushes throughout my body… the shiver knocks off some of the hot ashes from my cigarette and I burn my hand. Instead of swearing and shaking it off like I normally would, I just stare at my ash-spotted finger. A few seconds of pain and then it’s gone. It’s like I went numb towards that sensation. Maybe that’s how I should look at it… maybe that’s it. I start up the car again, but I leave the heater off. There’s no point to turning it on. I quickly roll my window down just enough to throw my cigarette out the window and roll it back up. I should probably quit smoking anyway. I turn the car off again.
How long am I going to keep doing this? Am I waiting for the song to come to an end? For it to stop playing indefinitely? Another metaphor, of course. I’m trying to be cold… so cold… I want it to stop hurting. I want to stop crying… several more droplets of rain race down the window… several more tears race down my cheeks. I place my face into my folded arms and lay against the steering wheel. Perhaps it’s time to give up. That sounds pessimistic. Perhaps it’s time for me to come to the understanding and accept things as they are. There we go. That sounds significantly more optimistic. I have to be optimistic. That’s who I am. Or at least that’s what people think of me. I can’t start disappointing anymore people. Disappointing myself is more than enough.
There’s a tap on my window. I look over to the side and I see a hand firmly pressed against the window. I place my hand against the window as well. My face begins to get even colder… I can’t suppress the tears… God knows I’m trying. I open the door and step outside. Before words can escape my mouth, arms are wrapped around me so tightly that I feel that all the air may be forced out of my lungs. But, I don’t care. I return the embrace. Some words are spoken between us, but they pale in comparison to the feelings that are shared.
The music is thick all around me… It’s embracing me. A tired old song rekindled with an emotion long forgotten. Droplets of rain race down my cheeks now. It would seem one chasing after another… a droplet after a tear after a droplet…
Cold lips caressed by cold lips. Time has stopped.
“All through the night… This precious time… when time is new. All through the night… knowing that we feel the same without saying…”
A cold hand placed on a tear-laden cheek, he speaks; “We have no past. We won’t reach back. Keep with me forward and through the night. And once we start, the meter clicks. And it goes running all through the night. Until it ends, there is no way.”
It’s strange… but it seems like when the roads are wet, the louder the cars are… and there we are… cloaked in sheets of our own warmth and the rain. Embraced by the rain… embraced by each other. The song won’t ever end. As long as we don’t let it.
I'm not sure exactly when I wrote these... but I can promise you I wrote these anytime between 20 and 30 years old. lol I don't think after that. But my concept of time is fucked. I just know I haven't written anything like this in over 10 years. But, here's a look into my writing past.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Random puffs of fog paint my window and then rapidly disperse. The cloud of fog increasing larger with each breath I take. Droplets of rain streak down the sides of the windows… one droplet chasing after another… Ironic how you can see resemblances of life on a rain covered window of a car… and yet you aren’t aware of your own life as it is happening. The cold air is rushing on my fingers from the side window of the car as I throw out my half-finished cigarette. The music feels thick all around me… perhaps because it’s a familiar old song. The rain drops that are streaking down the window are my tears… but not on my cheeks for I’ve cried all that I can. The rain mocks me. It laughs at my melancholy grandeur. As I continue to watch the rain fall onto the car windshield… I realize that my tears aren’t done after all. I feel the warmth from them running down my cheeks and then the instant cold they become. I’m seeing metaphors of life everywhere tonight…
I start the car engine and turn the heater on full blast… yet another metaphor. Fake warmth found in other things, denying myself of what I really want… So I turn off the car engine again. At least I have control over one thing… plus, I really should save the gas that’s in the car. It’s going to be a long drive. Why am I doing this to myself? Am I glutton for morbid revelations? The windows begin to fog up rapidly without the heat to chase it away. My fingers start to ache from the cold. Cold… cold… metaphors. Fuck. This has got to stop. I begin pounding my fists against the top of the steering wheel while choked sobs escape from my tightening throat. “This isn’t fair…” I say audibly. I’m now crying freely. I don’t care if anyone hears me. I don’t care if anyone sees me.
I can hear cars driving by me at high speeds… yet I can’t see them because of the thick condensation on all of the windows. It’s strange… but it seems like when the roads are wet, the louder the cars are. It’s strange… another metaphor. I reach into the glove compartment and pull out my cigarettes. I stare at them idly for a few seconds and then draw one out and light it.
I wipe away my icy tears with self-ridicule. I guess sometimes when we think we’re all grown up and we’ve learned all there is to know… We learn new things and realize we never stop growing. The music is still thick all around me… It probably would help if I didn’t have this song on repeat. At the same time, it doesn’t really hurt anything either. It lets me live in the moment.
There’s several loud rumbles of thunder outside… and yet I still can’t hear it. I can only feel it. All I can hear is the music. More metaphors… I wonder if I’m going to be plagued with them from now on. I can’t help it. There’s nothing I can do about it. I’ve made my decisions. So did he… Why am I waiting? Am I expecting things to change? I instinctively look down at my cell phone. No new calls. How many times have I checked now?
A shiver from the cold rushes throughout my body… the shiver knocks off some of the hot ashes from my cigarette and I burn my hand. Instead of swearing and shaking it off like I normally would, I just stare at my ash-spotted finger. A few seconds of pain and then it’s gone. It’s like I went numb towards that sensation. Maybe that’s how I should look at it… maybe that’s it. I start up the car again, but I leave the heater off. There’s no point to turning it on. I quickly roll my window down just enough to throw my cigarette out the window and roll it back up. I should probably quit smoking anyway. I turn the car off again.
How long am I going to keep doing this? Am I waiting for the song to come to an end? For it to stop playing indefinitely? Another metaphor, of course. I’m trying to be cold… so cold… I want it to stop hurting. I want to stop crying… several more droplets of rain race down the window… several more tears race down my cheeks. I place my face into my folded arms and lay against the steering wheel. Perhaps it’s time to give up. That sounds pessimistic. Perhaps it’s time for me to come to the understanding and accept things as they are. There we go. That sounds significantly more optimistic. I have to be optimistic. That’s who I am. Or at least that’s what people think of me. I can’t start disappointing anymore people. Disappointing myself is more than enough.
There’s a tap on my window. I look over to the side and I see a hand firmly pressed against the window. I place my hand against the window as well. My face begins to get even colder… I can’t suppress the tears… God knows I’m trying. I open the door and step outside. Before words can escape my mouth, arms are wrapped around me so tightly that I feel that all the air may be forced out of my lungs. But, I don’t care. I return the embrace. Some words are spoken between us, but they pale in comparison to the feelings that are shared.
The music is thick all around me… It’s embracing me. A tired old song rekindled with an emotion long forgotten. Droplets of rain race down my cheeks now. It would seem one chasing after another… a droplet after a tear after a droplet…
Cold lips caressed by cold lips. Time has stopped.
“All through the night… This precious time… when time is new. All through the night… knowing that we feel the same without saying…”
A cold hand placed on a tear-laden cheek, he speaks; “We have no past. We won’t reach back. Keep with me forward and through the night. And once we start, the meter clicks. And it goes running all through the night. Until it ends, there is no way.”
It’s strange… but it seems like when the roads are wet, the louder the cars are… and there we are… cloaked in sheets of our own warmth and the rain. Embraced by the rain… embraced by each other. The song won’t ever end. As long as we don’t let it.
