at night the highway diesel roar
speaks to me and tells me more
than any book i've ever read
or anything you've ever said
as frakked up crazy as it may sound, i miss being on the road, driving cross country. i've done it twice in the last 13 months and i'm ready to get some, go again.
i love tearing down some forgotten stretch of slowly decaying asphalt in the middle of the night, 30mph over the speed limit and monnglare in my eyes. i love cresting a hill and hearing my engine whine as i lift a little from terra firma then get slapped in the face by another long stretch of desolate desert and tumbleweeds. i love screeching to a halt in the middle of some remote highway miles from any hopes and dreams and standing in my headlights while pissing all over the yellow center line with Switchblade Symphony blaring from the open doors. i love not knowing where i'm going to stop for the night and either ending up half dead in some roach motel or in a sleeping bag with dew drying on my eyelids as i wake in the morning. i love walking into some deserted rest stop with my pistol shoved in the back of my pants as i stretch my legs and rub my hands over my shaved head and rough, wild beard. i love diner food and nuclear coffee and the feeling of movement under my ass as i sit still. i love the wild look in my eyes as i pull into some sleepy burg and see the trogs who live there quickly look the other way as i approach. i love drinking a beer in some dusty trailer passing for a bar and listening to the dull thoughts of the barely-human people tied to some dying town.
i'm starting to think that the living in one place thing ain't for me, if you take my meaning.
speaks to me and tells me more
than any book i've ever read
or anything you've ever said
as frakked up crazy as it may sound, i miss being on the road, driving cross country. i've done it twice in the last 13 months and i'm ready to get some, go again.
i love tearing down some forgotten stretch of slowly decaying asphalt in the middle of the night, 30mph over the speed limit and monnglare in my eyes. i love cresting a hill and hearing my engine whine as i lift a little from terra firma then get slapped in the face by another long stretch of desolate desert and tumbleweeds. i love screeching to a halt in the middle of some remote highway miles from any hopes and dreams and standing in my headlights while pissing all over the yellow center line with Switchblade Symphony blaring from the open doors. i love not knowing where i'm going to stop for the night and either ending up half dead in some roach motel or in a sleeping bag with dew drying on my eyelids as i wake in the morning. i love walking into some deserted rest stop with my pistol shoved in the back of my pants as i stretch my legs and rub my hands over my shaved head and rough, wild beard. i love diner food and nuclear coffee and the feeling of movement under my ass as i sit still. i love the wild look in my eyes as i pull into some sleepy burg and see the trogs who live there quickly look the other way as i approach. i love drinking a beer in some dusty trailer passing for a bar and listening to the dull thoughts of the barely-human people tied to some dying town.
i'm starting to think that the living in one place thing ain't for me, if you take my meaning.
VIEW 12 of 12 COMMENTS
reacher:
trust me, you don't want to go down the road i am on.
__rae__:
