I stepped into the car and sat behind the wheel. The moon glowed somewhere in the night sky, and I wondered where I was going. I slowly placed the key in the ignition and started the car up. I turned up the radio as it started on yet another mix tape I had made earlier in the week. It was cold out so I let the car warm up for a bit. Then I left.

As usual, I was confused. I felt empty, somewhat bitter, and very alone without realizing this was what I was feeling. I knew it was something to that effect, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Until I did. I feel confused, empty, bitter, and alone. It was a pretty powerful thought. But not really.

I came to the end of Main Street and made a right. Why the hell not? I thought. After all, it’s not everyday you feel like driving off by yourself. At least it better not be everyday. Then you’re one of those weird people that sits in fast food restaurants talking to themselves. I never do that, so I’m not weird. So, there I was, driving like I’d never driven before (even though I had) when tragedy struck. Well, not tragedy, but certainly something very bad. Okay, it wasn’t particularly bad, but it was horribly shocking. Hmmm, well, not horribly shocking either, but shocking nonetheless: I had a thought.

Every once in awhile this happened, and this night was no exception. Luckily enough for me, the thought wasn’t so preposterous that I would immediately start muttering gibberish while spitting out a foam-like substance as I crashed into an oncoming overloaded freight truck that was driving really fast. Like I said, I was lucky. It was one of those thoughts that made me go, ahhhh, interesting… then drive on my merry way while practically forgetting the thought forever. But not quite.

It was a thinkable thought, the kind poets have written about for ages. It was so thinkable, that I thought about it all the time. But then I didn’t. Then I started to think about it on and off. Then I thought about it all the time again. It was one of those never-ending cycles that, well, never ends. So I thought and thunk and thinked and thought some more until my mind told me not to think anymore. It does that a lot. I can’t say I blame it since I don’t give it much to work with. It’s similar to when you go running and you go a little farther than you should have and your body, your legs in particular, starts whining about how it doesn’t want to run any more. Of course, your mind is thinking, unbeknownst to the body, that you still have to run back the way you came. So your mind is like, c’mon, don’t be a wimp. Just run a little farther you out of shape bastard. So your body is like okay, you’re the brain so I guess you know what you’re doing. Then, a few minutes later, your mind tells your body that it’s done, well almost. Now all it has to do is run back home. The body really doesn’t want to be stuck in the middle of nowhere, so it gives in and thus falls prey to the mind’s trick. However, the body isn’t that smart when it comes to tricking the mind, especially on thoughtful things like thinking. The only times it seems to win is when you really don’t want it to because your mind knows better due to its obvious superior reasoning abilities, but the body wins because it’s bigger. Your mind is a wimp like that. Every once in awhile the mind still tries to pick fights with the body and picks on it, saying things like you’re out of shape, weak, and obviously drinking more beer than milk. Then your body says shut up before I kick your ass. I may be all of that, but I’m still bigger and stronger than you. Hell, at least I have muscles. Then of course the mind says that at least it has gray matter to which a big debate ensues over which is better, brains or brawn. This debate usually results in both parties growing tired and falling asleep while watching your funky screen-saver flash on your monitor, or by more grand-scale things like war, plagues, and infomercials.

But like I said, it was a thinkable thought that I thought of that night. And I still think it sometimes. Not all of the time, but enough to remind me how to think (especially thinkable thoughts as they are hard to recapture). So I think. Do I believe? Do I theorize, plan, and think some more? Do I do anything? Nay, I don’t take action let alone think of something I could do. I may ponder about it on some other level, but nothing comes of anything I seem to do. So I go day by day, driving when I want to, walking when I have to, and thinking when thinking becomes me under the moonlight of an early winter sky.

Originally written on 1997.10.29