Tuesday, February 8, 2011

There should be a show called Car Hoarders. I know you’ve seen them. Heck, I saw two just yesterday. People whose cars are so full of crap there is only enough space for them to sit in the driver’s seat. It’s amazing. It’s like the opposite of those cars that have all the decorative crap glued all over them. It’s decoration in reverse no it’s filling a car like filling a stomach that never shits.

One of the car hoarders I saw yesterday drove by me and it was like he was crashed in a river; the car half-submerged, his shoulders and head just above the waterline. Except instead of water, it was…stuff. They drove past me and their wake felt heavy, thick, sunken. I wanted to tell him to put his neck up, breathe in the air pocket. Hold on until help could come but that was a fast thought. Involuntary. And then the logic came and it was that he was a mere hoarder. There was no opportunity for rescue or saving. He was holding himself under. A sort of suicide.

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