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design | host greetings from tennesee i bet you weren't expecting to hear from me again so soon. well i wasn't expecting to talk to you so soon. it turns out my dad had his laptop with him. i'm in knocksville TN in a super 8 motel. we've been driving all day, and now quantico is just a spec behind us. my face is working its way to becoming just a memory. i'm eager to be gone and get where i'm going. there's nothing quite as creepy as seeing a hearse driving on the freeway at breakneck speed, keeping up wih traffic. it's even creepier when there's actually a coffin in the backseat, with flowers still on top of it. but you know what makes that even creepier? guess. you start to pass the hearse and it's creepy dull brown color to see a decrepid old man driving it and chrome letters spelling out your last name in the window of said hearse. omen? it didn't connect with me until afterward that we'd seen a funeral in progress... in the opposite direction of the hearse. this leads me to the assumption that there were two funerals going on in one day. it was just like the funerals you see on tv. the token old woman, dressed in black, her hands at her face, weeping next to a hole in the ground. it's like bright eyes says. It's a sunrise and a sunset. maybe i should listen to some more optmistic music. maybe my choice of cds in the car has infact influenced this manic mellencholie... this feeling of hopelessness that must be identical to that of a leaf, trapped beneath someone's shoe. maybe quantico wasn't killing me. maybe i'm killing me. i feel a sudden need for pathos... in guitar form. but my guitar is packed away. |