Losing Control In Wet Weather – Mad Chaos: October 2, 2001

Driven To Make Positive Changes

Because the steady base of my memoirs has been taken away for months on end, considering the vote of no confidence rooted them out seven months ago to douse my dictatorial shade and in so doing, let these social doves fly, the identifiable regularities have gone through a duress of sea change, and out through the uncomfortable ride were forced new leaders of my days to restore normality.  

I didn’t want all these months since the writer leave to be in vain, so therein forged a strong desire to make all my days practical, to incise into it routine, and to substitute what was once a dominative formula with deputy stabilities and sanity.  

I had such big shoes to fill and a choice of lifestyle to prove, but no one told me that life outside of my memoirs and in full independence out on my own would be so tough a struggle.  

I have been living an experiment for seven months, always scrapping for activities to stave off my boredom, and while today was nothing special, it was another day in this madcap loneliness survived.

Dual Environments Of Purposeless Existence

One unproductive day at home spent twiddling my thumbs would have been tragic.  I would have seen it as a failure, condoning an urge to smoke alone or pass my day with liquor, which have been greater binge factors recently.  I was afraid of the inevitable sitting at home when there was a car parked outside my bedroom window and a sunny day to see.  But the distraction to these conscious fears weighed up next to practicality upset me, because the day was already partly wasted with nothing vital for me to do.  

I could have jumped in my car for a drive, but having no destination and no purpose other than to distract my mind would have made it an unfulfilling journey, a waste of a drive.  I thrive on something positive to happen in days like these because my natural functional convenience and its content mood is nil.  So in essence, my mood has to manufacture its happiness in order to sustain that emotional pleasantry through the day.  

I had to leave the house because a drive with no destination in virtual limbo, although saddening, was a lesser evil than hiding in my room smoking cones and getting high all day.  My only two viable options were to either get stoned for no real purpose or drive around for no real purpose, so naturally, for the sake of morality battling my urges, the latter was chosen.

Stuck On Selecting A Pointless Activity

The day itself was quiet, first waking up to fist silent my alarm clock, and then waking up two hours later on my own idle merits.  I had an idea to visit the gym when stuck for options, but I had already visited the gym three days in a row, so even a quick steam up in the sauna seemed overkill.  

My memoirs were right here in front of me but were a considered last resort to be acknowledged because it would have been too much of a concession compared to the rest of my proactive choices.  

It was a conflicted day, a dilemma of selection stuck on what pointless activity to choose.  

I was growing miserable because it had been a long divide in my mind from having experienced welcoming human contact, and not the conflicted type.  I wanted to feel normal by sponsoring conduced associations, to be anonymous and unlike the already damaged abnormality of anxieties and repercussions my habit of smoking had made.  

Jett Invites Me To The Beach

I didn’t want to be miserable.  But nonetheless, all was not lost, as today, dialogue over the phone had reestablished following a long, lonely silence of weeks.  

The almond called up this afternoon, asking me out to the beach with him tomorrow.  

“Yeah, why not,” I replied.

We rattled on a few more minutes babbling.  I never really had a relationship with the almond since our ties distanced and we grew apart.  He has a profile in my memoirs lauded for the close relationship – second to the machine – that we have had.   But we have been misfiring in these last few months, with me retreating into drugs and acquaintances to accept that weakness as suitable, while he fades into his search for identity, patting down his relationship to see what else he can find.  

Like my last seven months only acknowledged when choosing to, and disappearing in the rest, my relationship with almond has been the same.  Anyway, as awkward as it seems to hang out with someone whose principles never weakened to dilute like mine, and while it might be hard to accept myself in front of him because his backboard shine will make me juxtaposed dark, a reality check, it should be a fine day.

Cruise To The Video Store

Anyway, the sign of life and the effort that people were still willing to show was a catalyst that helped me out of my blues and into the car.  I cruised downtown to the video store for the sake of taking my car for a spin, with the usual girls behind the counter for my eyes to admire.  Being there only for the eye candy however, once my perve was over and a late night show was about to premiere on television, it urged me back home in a cruise up the freeways, in no particular rush through the sprinkled wet.  Oh how dangerous the need for adrenaline can sometimes be however.  

My temptation in the wet weather saw to it that it wouldn’t be any silly old drive back home, as temptation undermined my need to drive safe in the wet weather.  My wheels easily slid in the wet, which made me consciously slow down around corners.  But this one time, when almost home and a roundabout away, atop a roundabout intersection on a cascading hill, my lame curiosity kicked in.

Losing Control Of My Car

My right foot when having slightly penetrated the roundabout and having started my small round venture left, bashed the accelerator pedal to see if the wet weather would flick me out, and to see how good my recovery would be.  I had only done this in dry weather before, as my tires were practically bald from all the burnouts and skids around corners, so it was new ground for my adrenaline, and it was dangerous.  

As soon as the front end under-steered and the back-end flicked out, with me powering on the wet tarmac to have the wheels spin uncontrollably, my car swerved towards the proper exit on the other side of the roundabout, but with no rule in my steering hands.  I tried applying more gas and locking one or two turns of the wheel to the left, but the road wasn’t as forgiving as that.  The position of my wheels had no effect on my pirouetting car spinning on a reckless slick of water.  

My car in these split seconds since losing control spun in a right hand direction, skimming up and then bouncing over the grassy medium strip, and then ending up on the other side of the road, right way around and stalled ready to head around the same roundabout again from the opposite side.  I was shocked in its reflex, as the car stalled and a car pulled up behind me with the nerve to beep as he slowed down.  The driver obviously noticed me lose it, barely missing some trees on the medium strip before landing right way around on the other side, but he held no sympathy.  

I was shook up a little thinking the car must have suffered irreparable damage.  But when my 1982 model Toyota Corona started first go, and then the car seemed to move along nicely, my sunken heart came back up to breathe.  

“Fuck!  How much damage would that have created to the steering,” first thoughts entered my mind as the car sat idle aiding my shock.  

Then the driver behind snapped me out of it.  After all, the car did hoist itself over the median strip, so despite the wet grass, it could have caused major headaches.  I was worried about cops driving past as well because if my engine never started again, being discovered would have been a real issue.

Anyway, with luck when getting my shaken car back home to look at it under a dim light, there seemed to be no damage at all.  You could hear the crickets, so uncannily silent trying to remain inconspicuous.  But the car was left unscathed, which allowed me precision bragging rights on the internet when the machine popped on later.  

This first near-accident in the rain however happened to be the precursor for my entry tonight, as how could you go past writing about it?  Sure I may have reversed into a tree a couple of months back in avoiding my conscience with the negative, but compared to this, it seems trivial.