Friday, July 9, 2010

The Road

I still have that strange buzz/rumble from the highway stuck in my head.. my being, I guess. 900 some miles in all.

Motels and awfully tiny pillows. Why are these pillows so small. Like midgets did all the ordering of supplies round these parts. They are as fucking tall as they are wide. You can't put 2 together. Damn it all. Everytime I role my head over I fall off and strike the mattress. Who would do such a thing? Marque De Sade brand pillows.

Finally asleep and then..... I hear "fuck me harder".  What the hell? I hear it again. I am a little confused having fallen asleep with a really nice buzz off the 6 pack of lager. "Fuck me harder". Then I hear the unmistakeable sound of a headboard slapping the wall like the bassist for James Brown hitting the strings. Ok.... I am awake. What now? I feel like knocking and asking him if he can fuck her harder. If not for her for me. So I can go back to sleep. They apear to have completed the task....... Now they are fucking talking. What kind of alpha male fucking  has a conversation about feelings after humping. Maybe he did indeed need to fuck her harder because he is awake and ready to share some deep thoughts and reflect on the previous day.

Back on the road...... It is like I am on a tread mill. The truck seems motionless and the road... the road appears to be the revovling mechanism. It makes my eyes and senses go all funny. The only thing that breaks the feeling is the heavy downpours and getting excited to sing a Charlie Rich song at the top of my lungs because no one can hear me. 

The road. I can still feel the road.

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