If you google Nighttime Driving you get swamped with lawyers and mothers and policemen all yelling and clawing and shaking, fists and fingers, about how dangerous it is, they’ll save you money, put you in jail. words trying to guilt you or warn you or get your business or screw you over. Can someone please actually go nighttime driving? The woods at night, illuminated by only your headlights, each corner most definitely revealing a magical (nightmarish?) wonderful anxiety of the unknown, quickly blasting through to the next corner, the next slight variation of that same feeling.
It’s 2 in the morning up on skyline at 2, after rain, window open a crack and if you’re lucky you hear coyotes in the distance. Phantoms around the next corner… or the next? or the one after? Too excited to turn back, too scared to keep going, but the car is running well and the road is there for the taking. Let them babble, I’ll throw it all in their faces.
I’m reading Kerouac:
“it comes over me in the form of horror of an eternal condition of sick mortality in me – In me and everyone else – I left completely nude of all poor protective devices like thoughts about life or meditations under trees and the “ultimate” and all that shit, in face the other pitiful devices of making supper or saying “What do I do now next? chop wood?” – I see myself as just doomed, pitiful – An awful realization that I have been fooling myself all my life thinking there was a next thing to do to keep the show going and actually Im just a sick clown and so if everybody else”