Volcanoes. Boiling inside me. Triggered by the mundane, others would laugh it off. Maybe smoke it in their lungs and out. Tar scarring an imprint. For some, a drink is all the fun, dizzying the mind away from pain. Hang over and next thing you know, it’s come back to haunt you. Think I’ve found the remedy, my own personal therapy. Not certified. When madness is on the run, speed on the motorway. Maximum. Seatbelt. Head lights and tails always to be avoided. When you’re absolutely, most certainly sure you’re all alone, roll down your window. If not too cold, all four. Full attention. Here’s the secret sauce. Bite your tongue until your eyes sting with tears. Blood shot. Take a deep breath. Hold. Exhale while screaming in full volume. Diaphragm. Put some muscle into it. Repeat and repeat until there is no voice left, not even a hum. Warning. If a car approaches dangerously near, act normal. Emptiness, you should be feeling, lighter now. Nostrils flare the last remains of fire. Eyes focus on the road ahead. Hands behind the wheel. For the first time in hours, you notice that you have no destination. Your journey has just begun.
