150 lines
8.5 KiB
Plaintext
150 lines
8.5 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
_
|
|
| \
|
|
| \
|
|
| | \
|
|
__ | |\ \ __
|
|
_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
|
|
| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
|
|
| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
|
|
| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
|
|
| | | | / / | |
|
|
| | | |/ / | |
|
|
| | | | / | |
|
|
| | | / | |
|
|
| | |_/ | |
|
|
| | | |
|
|
| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
|
|
| |________________________________________________________________| |
|
|
|____________________________________________________________________|
|
|
|
|
...presents... Slowing
|
|
by Tom Fawcett
|
|
|
|
>>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<<
|
|
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
|
|
____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____
|
|
|____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|
|
|
|
|
I usually enjoy driving this road. It has long stretches punctuated by
|
|
curves and hills. In the daylight it is scenic but tonight there isn't much to
|
|
see. The sides of the road are marked by large drifts of dirty snow. Behind
|
|
the snow are trees, dark evergeens whose color is invisible even in the
|
|
headlights. Beyond the trees on the left is the lake. The immense dark water
|
|
is occasionally visible in the dim moonlight.
|
|
|
|
The posted speed is 45; I'm doing about 60. Part of my mind tells me
|
|
"there is ice, this is dangerous" but I don't care. I've seen only a few cars
|
|
out tonight. I cross over the line on curves and don't think about slipping.
|
|
|
|
I feel a tightness in my chest. I turn the heat down. I unbuckle my
|
|
safety belt and unzip my coat. It's not enough. I crack the window and cold
|
|
air floods the car. I force myself to take deep breaths. That seems to help.
|
|
Sometimes at night my throat starts to go tight and I can hardly breathe.
|
|
|
|
I turn on the radio, something to distract my mind. I get a talk show
|
|
discussing US intervention in Bosnia. I push the button: an oldies station
|
|
playing fifties music. I push again and get dance music. Again, and get
|
|
another talk show. I push a few more times, lose patience, turn it off.
|
|
|
|
I drive along in silence. I become aware of something sticky on my thumb.
|
|
I turn on the inside light. I raise the thumb to my eyes: it's blood, from a
|
|
crack in dry skin. I am relieved and surprised at the same time. Lately I
|
|
always seem to be bleeding a little, somewhere. Cracks in my fingers, paper
|
|
cuts, razor cuts, nosebleeds.
|
|
|
|
Out on the road snow is beginning to come down now, earlier than they
|
|
predicted. I flip on the high beams, but the light-flooded snow drifts are
|
|
more than I can stand and I quickly turn them off. I feel better when I can
|
|
only see the gray drifts as blurs at the periphery. My eyes focus on the
|
|
endless short strip of road in front of my car.
|
|
|
|
I start thinking about a friend I knew in college. She'd had a lot of
|
|
problems, depression and fast personality changes that had been very hard on
|
|
her. She'd had to drop out for a year to get herself together. Recently I
|
|
asked her about that year, and she told me about her descent into depression
|
|
and her long slow recovery.
|
|
|
|
She said the one thing she remembered vividly from those days was what she
|
|
called "the compression". Most of the time she felt depressed and despondent,
|
|
and that was bad enough. Sometimes when it got very bad she would experience
|
|
what she called time compression. She said that most people live with a time
|
|
horizon that they're not even aware of, a horizon of hours or days or weeks.
|
|
During the compression her time horizon just shrank into nothing. Her future -
|
|
the evening, tomorrow or next week, the future most people take for granted -
|
|
disappeared completely. She felt trapped permanently in the present, not able
|
|
to imagine the next minute. She said it's not like you don't know what the
|
|
future will be; you're sure it doesn't exist.
|
|
|
|
After a while the compression would lift, but a few days would pass before
|
|
she felt normal again. It came on without warning, like a seizure, and left
|
|
her terrified and drained. Even many years later, married with kids, she still
|
|
remembered it well and never completely lost the fear that it would return.
|
|
|
|
Now, as I watch the dark road pass under my car, I remember the dread and
|
|
anxiety in her eyes as she described it. I think of the snow banks, the
|
|
invisible trees and the dark water. I think of the endless road and the small
|
|
frozen towns along the edge of the lake, the infinite empty winter sky. The
|
|
dirty snow and the jagged ice. I can imagine the compression.
|
|
|
|
I shake my head to scatter the thoughts. I look out the side window. I'm
|
|
aware of a pain in my head. It was a little tightness a while ago, but now
|
|
it's grown into a throbbing headache. Maybe it's the low pressure or
|
|
something. I clench my jaw and the pain subsides.
|
|
|
|
Up ahead I see a sign and a building. I take my foot off the gas. As I
|
|
approach I notice it's a convenience store, common along the lake, the kind
|
|
that sells beer and bread and bait. I'm surprised it's open so late this time
|
|
of year. I slow down and pull in.
|
|
|
|
I push through the door and look around. I make my way down a crowded
|
|
aisle. An old man watches me from behind the counter, probably surprised that
|
|
anyone would be out this late. I look around the aisles for a moment and find
|
|
what I'm looking for. I pick up a bottle of aspirin. Near it are Band-aids.
|
|
I pick up a box.
|
|
|
|
I look up at the man behind the counter, who's been watching me. His face
|
|
looks dusty and pale in the thin fluorescent light.
|
|
|
|
"You have ice?" I ask. He points to one side, beyond the counter, at
|
|
something hidden from my view. I go over and open the door of a big freezer.
|
|
|
|
"Not there, the other side," he says, "That side's bait." I open the
|
|
other door, pull out a bag of chipped ice, and walk to the counter.
|
|
|
|
For a moment he looks at me, a smile with a quizzical expression. I
|
|
wonder what he sees. A spot of dried blood from the nosebleed? Bags under my
|
|
eyes from last night? He looks away and starts ringing up the sale. I brush
|
|
my upper lip self-consciously.
|
|
|
|
Walking back to my car, I notice the snow is still coming down. I pull
|
|
back onto the road and bring the car up to speed. I drive along for a few
|
|
minutes. I slow down for a curve, then straighten out, and suddenly my vision
|
|
smears. I blink several times fast, but it remains blurry. My God, what is
|
|
this, are my eyes bleeding now?
|
|
|
|
I glance in the rear-view mirror for cars and pull over to the side. I
|
|
turn on the light and tilt the mirror down so I can see my face. My eyes are
|
|
watering. My breathing is shallow and fast. A snowplow approaches from the
|
|
other direction. Its strong headlights flood the inside of my car with light.
|
|
As it nears I close my eyes tightly. After it passes, I look back in the
|
|
mirror. A tear is running down my cheek.
|
|
|
|
I turn off the light and start the car moving again. I remember the ice.
|
|
I reach over and tear open the bag with a fingernail. I pull out a small
|
|
chunk. I press it to my cheek and feel it slowly numb the skin. I press
|
|
harder.
|
|
|
|
If only I can make it past the lake and into the hills. I never realized
|
|
how long this lake is. This is taking forever.
|
|
_______ __________________________________________________________________
|
|
/ _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842|
|
|
((___)) |Cool Beans!..........415/648-PUNK|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362|
|
|
[ x x ] |Metalland Southwest..713/579-2276|ATDT East...........617/350-STIF|
|
|
\ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Ripco ][............312/528-5020|
|
|
(' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! |
|
|
(U) |==================================================================|
|
|
.ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Tom Fawcett. |
|
|
\_______/|All Rights Reserved. 08/01/1994-#278|
|
|
|