Thinking and driving

I drive Brother to work quite often. At least three times a week. I usually don't mind. I actually enjoy it. Or at least a part of the drive. The only times I'm ever annoyed is when I have other stuff I want to do and the request for a chauffeur is at the last minute.

I'm also annoyed when Brother demands that I drive him anywhere. If he asks, then I'm all right with driving him. But when he orders me to drive him, I just get irritated.

I realize that I don't really care about driving, but I do actually enjoy driving. Alone, for the most part. When Mother or Brother is in the car with me, the experience is less enjoyable. I don't mind driving friends because we can talk about things or I can listen to the conversation. But with Mother and Brother, conversation is not something I really look forward to.

Hm, I usually take 85 and 87 to drive Brother to work. I just put on some music and hope that there's not much conversation. But Brother likes to talk and vent. So I listen, unless my irritability gets the best of me. I try not to let it, but it gets hard sometimes. Especially if one of us has received Mother's wrath just before leaving the house. Mm, generally, the drive to Brother's work isn't too bad. Especially if I drive fast (enough to get him out of the car sooner).

When I head home from GJ, I have the car to myself.

Sometimes, I take the freeway back home to get there sooner. Speed, great speed. Sometimes, I really need the speed, the adrenaline, the risk. I never really remember anything from these drives because I'm just so focused on the speed, the wind that I can feel beating against the car. Occasionally, I do remember why I'm speeding.

Once in a while, I take the freeway, but I don't pass the speed limit. Stick to 65 mph. Stay in the third or fourth lane. The tailgaters eventually pass me (if they get the hint that I'm not speeding up). I usually don't think about anything during these drives because I'm focusing on the speed limit. If I do end up thinking, I start speeding up accidentally. So I try not to think and just drive.

My most frequent route to take, however, is Monterey Road. Slower than the freeway speeds, though sometimes I go as fast as 65 mph just because.

To get to Monterey Road from GJ, I head east on St John, south on Fourth, east on Santa Clara, and then south on Tenth. I like driving by school, by the student apartments. I always look up at the apartments when I drive down Tenth. I don't know why. I just look. I often have the urge to go park in the parking garage and walk around campus at night. But I don't... And I keep driving. When I get to Franklin Elementary (my first school), I turn west and head toward Monterey Road. Left at the Seventh St light and head on down Old Tully Road. Left at the light and I'm on Monterey.

I stick to the second lane. The first lane is too fast, and the third, too slow. Also, there's less risk of running over a jaywalker in the second lane. Gives me more time to react. I learned.

Usually, I just head straight down Monterey until I get to the Bernal overpass. Sometimes, this seems too quick.

I want more time to think. With music. Or sing with music haha. So I turn right at Skyway, Branham, or Chynoweth to drive down Snell and Santa Teresa toward home. I like passing ST. Remember the feeling of being in high school with friends. Think about all the people who aren't around anymore. Nostalgia. I used to drive by ST a lot during my first year of college. This past semester, I did it less. I need to let go.

If I don't want too much more time in the car, I drive onto the Blossom Hill ramp from Monterey. Left on Lean.

Hm, I always end up thinking the same things over and over.

I always end up wishing I could drive longer.

Don't go home. Just keep driving, keep thinking. But I know if I keep driving, I would get in trouble for not coming home on time.


I don't know why I started this entry. But as I was driving home from GJ, I was thinking about this. Thinking about a lot of things. Thinking about talking to people, to someone. I kept looking at the passenger seat next to me. I don't know why.


Off-topic: I want, but I don't want. Does that make any sense? I'm not sure it does (outside of my head). Maybe because I'm not explaining it. Yeah, that could be it.


Back to the topic: I enjoy driving. I don't really care much about the act of driving. It gets me from place to place, and that's that. With or without a destination, driving helps sometimes. I don't know how, but it does. Though, I'm sure it's only because I get to think. Driving alone is the best alone time I can get. The car has to be moving. If it stops and I'm just sitting, it's the same as if I'm sitting at home and thinking.


I should bike more. Or walk more. Or maybe sitting and thinking is the best way to go.

Oh, Brother purchased a U-lock and a rear bike light for me today. Fifty bucks D: He's gonna buy a chain for me too. Maybe I should have gotten the U-lock and chain set. Oh well. I need to go to the Student Union to get an access key to the bike enclosures. Maybe Monday. I won't start biking any time soon though, I don't think. It's supposed to rain for a week -_-

I may or may not go to campus tomorrow. I don't wanna stay home. I didn't want to stay home today, but I didn't have much of a choice. Stuff got in the way. Literally. The Harwells (landlord and landlady) came by to trim the tree in front of the house. Branches and leaves blocked the pathway in front of the house. And I was also obligated to pick up Brother and drive him around.

Anyway, I probably won't go to campus tomorrow because I shouldn't. Why I shouldn't, I don't know. I just feel like I shouldn't, even though I want to.


I don't feel like I'm making sense anymore. I'm going to bed early tonight. Maybe I'll get better sleep if I lie down earlier than 11.


Last thoughts: Although I'm only halfway done with the novel, I can say that Watchers, written by Dean Koontz, is quite interesting. I can relate to Nora, though not to such an extreme extent, I suppose. I know I'm not all that bad. I don't doubt myself so much that I can't look anyone directly in the eye. But I know I think like her. We know how good we can be and how much we deserve. Yet, knowing is hardly believing... And...

I want to be reclusive.