Fleeing into Stillness
Drive West, 2008
Crossing America, along interstates, smells change more than scenery
Wet worms, mixed earth, acrid chemical tinge, sewage, animal feed, skunk
Each small no-name pull-off, almost identical
With its chain of gas stations, fast food shops, lonely motels
I drive without stopping
Except for gas
From my east coast suburban home into the mountains of Colorado
Three shooting stars pass me before I get pulled over for driving 18 over
“I feel bad,” says the cop
Handing me a ticket, my record
Of talking my way out of tickets
Blown.
In such a hurry
To find a touch of stillness
Perhaps to taste, if even for a moment,
What I am lacking
What is driving me to pull apart my life.
At one rest-stop
A man is asleep, his lights still on
I tap on his window
No response
Again
He shudders into disoriented awakenness, fear on his face
He almost drives off
“Your lights are on,” I say loudly to his fogged window
His face relaxes as I walk away.
Music plays loudly, rolling in the car with me
My mind sings along to words I don’t know
To words that don’t register
They don’t need to
They are simply occupying my mind
I call friends, others text me, my cell phone buzzes with words
I’m not yet ready to face the silence.
In the heart of America
I pass countless pro-life signs
So many that I long to get pregnant
Just to get an abortion
To rage against people
Who pay to put up signs
To make women feel guilt.
I drive all day
I drive most of the night
I drive
It’s something I’ve always done well
Perhaps I could become a truck driver
And cross darkened states to loud music
Without having to figure out what is lacking
I could fill my life with long hours
Alone.
I discover that I can write in my journal
As I drive 80mph across sunny and dull Kansas
I try to keep this gift to a minimum.
Many miles out of preachy middle states
I turn off the music
Breathe in the silence
Roll down the window
As I pass fields of sunflowers at the base of the Rockies
I ask myself aloud
“What do you want?”
I pause
As if it wasn’t me asking the question
“To end my safe life-style,”
I know what I want
I just need the strength to continue
So I make it happen.
I stop late morning for a rest
The August heat, even in the shade, slinks into me
Eating wine grapes in the reclined front seat
I don't need to get anywhere
I am simply here
I could stay at this rest stop
For days
For weeks
No one would know
I could simply vanish
I feel completely unattached to anyone in the world
All I have
Is me
I taste complete freedom
In each grape exploding in my mouth
I missed these small winery grapes
As a child, I ate them off the vine
At my grandfather's house
Before he turned them into wine.
Full text and additional photos are downloadable below:
fleeingintostillness.pdf |
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All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com
All images and writing are copyrighted. These stories will be published by 2012.
Printed version available upon request.
All feedback and comments are welcome. Please send to blissmeander at gmail.com