the rest of the cat.

I love to drive at night.

It should be a clear night, crisp. If it's warm, I'll roll the windows down. Otherwise, I'll keep myself sealed in my green Japanese capsule, going home, climbing the mountain. Traffic's light, so I'm free to let my mind wander as I my hands automatically guide my capsule the way it already knows by now.

I am always young and I am always free. This is when I feel like it.

I drive 9 mph over the speed limit. I've never been pulled. There are cops all over the place, but they're looking for out of state tags who had to go 35 on the mountain curves and are now making up for lost time on the straight, flat highway. They're not looking for me, in my green Japanese capsule, speeding home.

I play the music loud enough to surround me, another capsule within my physical one. It should be something kinda slow and mellow. No Cibo Matto tonight, thanks. That's for day driving. Put in some Morphine or some Portishead. I know all the words, and I sing them. I'm alone, so no one knows I'm off-key in my green Japanese capsule, speeding home.

Tonight was such a night. The night beautiful and cool, me still warm from a family gathering. Flaming Lips were playing. The stars were bright and gorgeous, but it was the moon that caught my eye. It was a crescent, shining like a brilliant smile in the sky.

I smiled back, and waited for the rest of the cat to appear, in my green Japanese capsule, speeding home.