I cried in the car with my mom today. It has been a while since I've let myself dissolve into a gushing river like that. Washed the whole car, it needed it. When I was younger I used to dissemble the tapes that occupied the glove compartment, ripped apart Neil Diamond's intestines with my bare hands, like cats do with string, they'd end up all over.
She told me not to do it, then I'd promise, and she'd hand me the cassette. Her car would turn into the polyester-type plastic film version of Rainbow Road, I was riding it all over the place in my head (I was always just playing in my head).
Today, I was undoing the damage, CLEANING THE WHOLE PLACE OUT with a presumptuous stream. Once I let myself start, I couldn't stop, it has been a while. It started because I told her that I Feel Like I Need To Just Go Away For A Month and she got upset. I said that I just don't feel right anymore, that sometimes my head spins so fast that it falls off my body and sometimes I can stop to laugh at a joke and sometimes not even something funny might save me. I think that if I disappear for a month or two, people might become shiny again. Won't You Be Lonely, Without People? I already am.
She said there's Good Things Coming Your Way, I Can Feel It.