smooth

GRAVEL

You haven't lived until you've lost your mind and found it again. It's kind of like being the Huckleberry Finn or Holden Caulfield of your own existence, everything turns white, and you don't even know dog shit! I mean nothing's there! Less than nothing at the bottom of a well. The whole thing got precipitated about half a year ago when a Chinese friend demanded I drive my taxicab over to her restaurant on Thanksgiving Day for a special treat, which turned out to be worse than dog food. It must have reminded me of some meal I had as a child, and afterwards, rather than race around killing everybody, I turned inward to assuage my intense misery, dove down a hole I found in the center of my chest, then somehow surfaced from this escapist plunge inside myself smack in the middle of my optic nerve, which, unaccustomed to this seldom used neuronal pathway, flooded my vision with extremely bright white light. It was all I could do in this ten to twenty second merge with enlightenment to look around and not crash my taxi.