I now hate the road I once loved. Familiar territory surrounds me while I watch the stars disappear one by one. In the dead of night thousands of yellow and white lights can be seen in the near distance. I think the one thing that keeps me from jumping out of the car and plunging to my inevitable death is the thought of getting a good night’s sleep in my oh so comfortable waterbed. Out here with the city still only in sight, 18-wheelers rule the highways. One by one they pass us by like a traveling circus or a derailed train adapting to the character of cement.
July 20, 1999