  I just finished cleaning my car. It is amazing how many memories the trunk of a car can hold, I spent almost an hour just looking through old papers and photographs and notebooks...oh the notebooks. There was 6 of them there, all with various things written in them. These are things I didn't want people to read at the time, but now, now I will post them, for little of it matters anymore. old journal entry #1 There is a box, it is sitting idly on the floor. In inches, it measures 23x29x16.
I measured it. I could probably fit inside. I wonder how long I could stay there. Hours? Days? Perhaps I could stay there long after everyone had stopped looking for me.
I could remain there, entombed in cardboard, while someone else cleaned the toilets and loved my girlfriend. old journal entry #2 I hit a new personal speed record for Taylor Drive today. 107km/h old journal entry #3 She fixes her hair and says it never does what she wants it to. She turns around, her hair is in braided pig tails. We laugh. She puts on a toque.
She looks good. I'm happy. She doesn't...nevermind. Women always insult themselves to that men compliment them. We're going to a party soon. On Some farm.
old journal entry #4 They sit idly at the table in her kitchen, talking softly of things important to them. In future years, these things will be forgotten, but for now, their six year old minds find it important. He tells her of one time he walked by the park and it was pitch black. She points to a black star on her hot pink swimsuit. "Like this? " "No, darker" old journal entry #5 I've heard these songs a thousand times before, but for some reason, they are affecting me more than they have before.
As I drive you home, I think of nothing. I loose myself in the song. We pass some roadkill. A cat. An average, pet cat. It sends shivers down my spine.
We will all die. You. Me. Will die. maybe someday I will be ready, but not today. There is so much to do.
I want more chances to make you tea biscuits and do your biology homework. I want more chances to try and get some sexual activity out of you, and get shot down so bad I don't even get a kiss. "Sexual Activity" is a quote from your bio homework. I pull into your driveway and turn the music down. we hug. For a long time.
You go inside. I drive away. I think about the cat, and take and alternate route home. 
