how to disappear

Outside seems fine. It's good enough.

Ah, to be inside the car, in the middle of the night, on my way somewhere, nowhere, and, just for a brief moment, stop existing. What does it mean, really, to be, when you can just not be? For how long can one be non-existent before they start to forget you? If you were to come back, would they remember you? Would you really be yourself again? Would you want to be? Or, in a sudden change of plans, would you go back to that dark road, inbetween the beginning and the end, where nothing really is, just to disappear from reality once more, and this time, really be forgotten, forever, and never come back?

It's the road that calls me back, over and over again, and it's my feet and my hands and my body that always bring me back to that dark but surprisingly well lit highway, so when I get out, I can start a new life someplace else, nowhere, anywhere... It's the night sky that whispers in my ear to come back to that place and be one with the stars. It's my heart that begs for me to let myself vanish forever, only to beg me to go back after disappearing for a while. It's the car that cries to take it out and hit the road while I can, to grab the wheel and do turns that no one ever did, go to places no one's ever seen.

But ultimately, it is me that decides to go back, back to that place of horror and despair, of happiness and joy, of fear and yearning, because wether I like it or not, it is the only place where I feel the most, where I feel alive, where I feel, for once, alright.

And just like that I find myself, once again, inside my car, driving around, hitting the road and leaving my town for the twentieth time in this last two months. As once before, there's a bag on the passenger's side, full of clothes, items and some food I might need. There's a considerable amount of money inside the glove box, so that when I get there I can rent a room somewhere. There's a cat sleeping on the back seat, waiting for us to get there, him being the only one who knows and remembers who I am even when I start disappearing; the only one who really knows what it's like not to be, and to go back and forth this horribly beautiful and exciting adventure we call life. He is the only oneq I trust, the only one who's there for me when I need it, the only one who is as immortal as can be and as old as time, going as far back to my first disappearance.

Not time nor space really exist when I'm here, not to me, because I'm not really here; we're not here. We never are in this cursed place that I'm so obsessed with. But the moment light hits the street, when the day touches the grass, when the birds scream their songs of freedom, when the sun shows itself in front of me and declares this moment as his; it is then when I begin to be again, for one last time, before I have completely vanished. I know that when I'm ready, the sun will no longer say anything to me, and he will just come up, go down, and never come back. And it will be then when, at last, I will be fulfilled. I will no longer exist, and my cat will disappear alongside me, and we will be able to forever run in the grass and rest in the trees. I will not bring anything other than him to that last trip, because he is the only one I need, and I'm the only one he will follow.

Until then, I'll just leave before the sun sets after warning me, and I'll just start a brand new life, in a brand new body, in a brand new time, and I'll be happy for a while; and then I'll do it again, and he will be with me, around me, to protect me from disappearing for too long.

For now, I'm just in the car. And you're with me for the ride.