‘Where is it I wanna go?’

I think, I wonder to myself.

As I paint with water the waves and clouds.

‘Why is it I wanna go?’

I consider, I shrug and think myself dumb for asking.

And now I’m breezing down the highways with the windows down and I should be watching the road, but instead I’m watching that sky. I consider myself lame for bobbing my head to the rainy day chill mixes I am playing through my car speakers. Up ahead the light turns red and the cars in front of my slow to a stop. My eyes climb from the dry grass at the bottom of a telephone pole to the squirrels scurrying across the wires at the top. Today’s sky features clouds  magnificently underlit with shades of orange distributed evenly and the birds appear clam.

My hand tap tap taps on the wheel to the beat of the music as the light flashes green and the cars begin once again to make their way to wherever it is they are trying to get. It is my turn to make my way down this twisted road under the gaze of my out-of-body self, and so I drive before the cars behind get the chance to beep. The lanes grow in number and I realize that I have never been alone on this journey. We pick up in speed and create our own wind that finds its way through my window and pushes back my hair. I feel a little silly for enjoying the way the wind feels with one hand on the wheel and the other out the window. My head still bobs on my shoulders and I’ve increased the volume on my speakers to compensate for the breeze. The day feels perfect in this very moment, and I never want to arrive at my destination.

I’m no artist, but when I think of the way the roads make me feel I can’t help but envision the colors I would use to paint my car on these winding roads underneath the perfect sky. Wine, Watermelon,Charcoal, Midnight, Mustard, Emerald these are some of the colors that come to mind. Once again I am observing the sky and taking in all of its magnitude, its beauty. I remember hearing once that the secret to learning if you were in a lucid dream or not was held in the sky. If the blues and whites resembled strokes of a painting than you were not in reality.

‘Am I in reality?’

I waiver, I decide it doesn’t really matter

‘But what if i’m not, what do I do then?’

I ponder, I keep driving.

And now it’s dark all around me. Where I am there are no street lights and no visible cars ahead of me. I’ve spent my time deliberating how many of the things I’ve believed have been wrong, the likelihood of taking all of the right turns on this journey but still ending up in the wrong place,  whether or not all the wrong things I have done will actually come back to bite me and the many rules to people, politics, painting, and popcorn that I have yet to understand. My windows are up and the music has been turned down low. The mood is not unpleasant, although it seems obvious now more than ever that this ride must come to an end. Distant are lights and cars and signs of life, but once I notice them in my path I immediately feel apart of it. I am never alone. I am third in line behind a pick-up truck and a camry and when my turn arrives I take a right into a parking lot. A large Walmart parking lot still packed with people and bursting with life is where I’ve decided to stop. I circle and square and triangle the lot observing the people and the empty spaces. Finally, I choose to back into a space just because I know it will take me longer than pulling in head first and I want to make this day last for as long as I can. Near the edge of the lot is where I kill the engine, sit back in my seat, and take in the view.

Approximately 200 feet away from me is a woman returning to her vehicle with a cart of items. As she approaches her car I unbuckle my seatbelt, open the door, and take a few tentative steps into fresh air, never allowing my gaze to wander away from the woman. She walks, I walk. She stops to open her trunk, I stop to gaze into her cart. She begins to load up her car, I verbalize how heavy all those bags look. She allows me to help her heave bags into her car, I allow myself to tuck a box of crackers into my jacket pocket when she’s not looking. She thanks me for my help and offers my a bottle of water as a remedy for the warm night, I thank her for the water and take my leave towards the Walmart only to turn back around towards my car once I’m sure she sees me no longer.

‘What is it I want from life?’

I don’t know, I don’t know.

‘What would happen if you turn back now?’

I don’t know, I don’t know.

And now I lie on my side. I’ve leaned the seat as far back as it will go and continue to munch on crackers as I watch the shoppers with their carts. I suddenly remember my car has a sunroof and I fall asleep observing the empty void as it observes me. I think that if this is all a dream falling asleep will either plumet me further into this fake reality, or enable me to wake up once and for all. Though if I knew this was not reality, would I really want to wake up into the real world? Would I ever dream again in such a universe?

What have I done with my dreams, how do I plan on realizing these dreams outside of my own head?

I don’t know if this is a sign that I desperately need to sleep or if I’m finally coming to my senses. I don’t truly know what my future holds, but it makes me feel better to imagine that I don’t have complete control.

And now I am asleep, and I watch my stomach rise and fall in the company of the stars. I wish for myself knowledge and understanding. Security and strength. Words and paint.

Goodnight. Wake well.