Guilt Trips, Acid Trips, Road Trips

Ive taken every one  of these trips. Some behind the wheel of my car, others simply in my head. If I had to say which were the most fascinating, I would have to say, the daily road trips  which have stoked my imagination, and interestingly provided a life time of illusory memories.

Just the other day, I took a mental road trip  with a strikingly handsome man driving the "Meat without Feet" truck.While sharing the road and briefly flirting, within the safety of my Santa Fe, I was happily married, and then happily divorced to this man, and had a life time supply of lobster and shrimp. Haha

Soon after I passed a young woman with two infant seats in the back of her car. Twins, I suspected. Plates from New Hampshire, and instantly I had her story. She just left her husband, who had spent their monthly mortgage payment on sex toys and ruffies. I looked over at her with compassion, I thought I saw tears, but turns out they were mine. I wanted to tell her she'd be ok once she hired a hit man to knee cap the bastard, But I was startled out of my head by the blare of a horn coming from the 18 wheeler driven by my next muse.

This vehicle was carrying pool water. The driver appeared to be in his 30's. Not strikingly handsome, but nice looking in a rugged kind of way. I was mentally straddling this man, surprisingly at the next truck stop in his tiny cab.
He's complaining about all the rich bitches  in Southport, he'd like to fuck, while their husbands are hiking in the mountains with their concubines, and have pools the size of hockey rinks that are awaiting his arrival. I marry this man also, and have a life time of clean pool water, but somehow never get the pool.

Suddenly a car passes me to my left, and it's a large man of maybe 65 with a cigar dangling from his lip. We look at each other and he gestures with his cigar, fellatio...bitch? I make believe I vomit, and hit the gas pedal. I am roaring with laughter, and sickened simultaneously. I think of making large signs on sticks that read...fuck you, eat shit, drop dead, and flashing them at the next pervert.

A short way up the road, I spot a little gray haired old lady whose head barely sees over the steering wheel. I'm suddenly standing graveside at her funeral. Wow...that was weird. So I speed up and pull along side a van that reads "Call And We'll  Haul. Call Spike at...203-???-????. I think they might be hauling away dead husbands and whatever else one finds useless. I immediately want to call the number on the van and ask if they would  haul away my boring existence.

My exit quickly approaches, and I am jerked out of my head. I realize
That my daily trips along this highway have provided a much richer inner life than my own, and I laugh to myself. I also realize that yearning, dreaming, and pretending, is so much better than the actual having, and I feel fortunate that I have such a weird brain. The brain that has gotten me into so much trouble has also taken the bite out of reality when reality has become unbearable.

I amuse myself with these day dreams, and wonder how the hell I managed to not kill myself, nor ticketed for excessive mental wondering!

The days of guilt tripping are mostly gone, but I am a mother, so occasionally I find myself on that bumpy road. Acid trips are a thing of the past, but I secretly wonder if I have damaged my brain so long ago on the few I've traveled. But road trips...it's amazing the full life one can safely have from behind a steering wheel! Happy Trails!