I Don't Think The Crazy's Gone

"Beep Beep Beep… CRASH"

This is precisely what I heard yesterday at roughly 1:00pm. I of course knew what was going on and tried to search for the site of the car accident. It couldn't have been a very bad one but I find that I have a little more of a strange fascination with seeing the damage ever since I was run over. Yep, run over. I found where the site was but couldn't actually see the damage. I couldn't bring myself to walk down to where it had happened because I didn't want to be "one of those people," so instead I decided that I would go get in my car and drive around the block as if it were the most normal thing in the world and then park in the parking garage under my building.

It was a bit of a letdown. There was no cool rubble on the street or anything else, just two very slightly crunched cars. I don't know why I do this, it isn't as if I like to relive the experience of my tires crushing my flesh and feeling the weight of my car on my legs and then torso. I used to wake up from nightmares of it happening again and I even get skittish when I am outside moving vehicles. Even when my own car moves slightly from inside movements of a passenger or something similar I have the urge to yelp. I don't anymore, but I still want to.