My diary

The drive

Why do people choose to run away from their problems instead of facing them? The questions that is on replay while I hold onto the handles on the roof. I'm sitting in a cab, driving up the hill with angst. Torn leather seats scratching up my legs, with the thick scent of cedarwood filling up the car. The little air freshener tree dangling on the mirror swings side to side, bumping up against the window.

I look out to see the city lights fade away. This is my escape from the fear and anxiety that lies inside the area, exhaling my worries away. Each building, each person, holds its own story. Untold tragic experiences and overwhelming thoughts, all kept in the iron maiden of a skull. The fast-paced, never-ending responsibilities the urban areas withhold, suddenly come to a halt. I finally feel at peace, whilst being able to hear my own thoughts. The ringing in my head slowly sounding fainter, while the cars minimize.

Adjacent to the hustle, the ocean echoes the crashing waves. Waxing and waning, brushing against the shoreline. The reflection of the moon dances to the waves' chorus, drowning out the city rush. The car lights illuminate the road. It stretches into the dark, narrowing into the unknowns of the final destination, to free me from the pain I bear. The trees on either side looming over me, engulfing the cab. They stare down at me, questioning my decision to enter. The chirping of crickets counts the seconds to my freedom, along with the sounds of cooing crows pulling me in. I close my eyes and hold my breath to let my journey unfold.