Lubbock by night, Amarillo by mid-day
Something about being on the road just makes me care less. I think I have a carnal desire to potentially lose everything. I guess that's why Phil and I had completely different reactions when an encounter with bonafide lunatics led to a prolonged, highspeed car chase down a Texas highway somewhere between Lubbock and Amarillo. See, I already knew what the stakes were as soon as they pulled up beside us on the curb. I've been through way shittier situations just dating women with mood disorders that were compatible with my own. I didn't even mind the gun; that was just part of the experience for me. Most of my focus was bent towards trying to calm Phil down during those crucial moments where his ability to drive was directly proportional to our survivability, sometimes on a second-by-second basis. The monks call that the "fourth moment" by the way; it's somewhere between the present and the future, where we dictate the flow. That harrowing chase sequence was Phil's rock bottom; for me it was a gratifying experience. I felt the weight of every infinitesimal choice that resulted in just one more moment, just one more chance to care less. I appreciate that things can be intense. If anything, I require as much intensity as possible. I would have absolutely loved it if I still had just a little bit of blow left over from the night before, so that I could have licked a bump of it right as we hit the highway with those two strange cars in hot pursuit.
