So here’s a little method to my madness for the 26 of you who care.
This is your life and a sportscar isn’t going to be fast enough to get you far away.
This was the box that everybody pointed to, that everybody carried around. Colored and sometimes stretched out like an accordian and sometimes sounding beautiful but still a box. A freaking box. He loathed boxes. He hated types. He wanted to live in Southeast Asia in the jungle. He wanted to live in an igloo. He wanted to drive a tractor to work. He wanted to spread seeds during the day. He wanted to study stars at night. He wanted to eat fruit under the moon and the milky way while he wore a loincloth and lay sprawled out in a tree.
You’ve gone bonkers buddy bonkers.
He waved at the car driving by. Hello neighbor. Good to see you. See you Sunday at church. See you at the neighborhood barbeque. See you shining your shiny car. See you spiffing your car and trotting out your trophy wife.
I want something else not this not here not now.
He wanted to walk streets with no name and feel the dirt and the road under his feet and against his heels. He wanted to taste the dirt of America. He wanted to see people who had no idea what a cubicle looked like, no idea what a subdivision looked like, no idea what it meant to have a mortgage. He wanted the wind to chap his lips and the sun to beat down on his head and he wanted to feel God and this world and this life real as real could get. He wanted to take his family along and start over start new become an explorer settling down in somewhere new.
Way too many beers. Way too much steak. Way too much sun.
Kevin breathed in and knew that it was a good thing nobody could read his thoughts. They’d send a shrink his way and force him to pay a grand sitting on a leather loveseat talking about his feelings and emotions and thoughts.
It was best to keep them at bay. In the silence of his screaming mind.
Travis, maybe it is time to head down to Taco Bell for that day job.
OUCH!