Eight flew over, one was destroyed.

I like driving by myself. No one there to distract me from my thoughts. occasionally, at night, when it's partially dark and there are no other cars in sight- I will imagine life sized black boxes popping up many yards ahead of me on the road. In the beginning, I'd get scared almost even hit the breaks. Before I can get my mind to it, I realized that the boxes went away when I approached them, and I would keep driving until another one showed up. Tonight, this reoccurred. The reason I like driving by myself is because it unlocks this vault I had stored in God knows where, holding the creative mind I had before reality sunk in.
You know. That one time, where you'd be at the pool with your parents and friends & worrying about what rays you caught, and if you have just enough tanning oil on. No, instead you would worry about the scientists who are on a quest to find you & your mermaid friends in the big ocean you are swimming deep in (with your ankles crossed, making the prettiest mermaid tail of all your friends) aka; your average neighborhood pool.
It was that time when you weren't considered crazy for imagining the most obscene of things, but then age and knowledge hits you and suddenly those thoughts will only place you in the madhouse.
Anyways, I started zoning out as I was driving home, making fantasies in my head about these boxes. Created an adventure.
I had a movie mapped out in my head, while at the same time I was able to concentrate on driving cautiously; which to me reminds me of how beautiful the brain really is. I imagined those boxes, except tweaking it up a bit. This is what I painted.
I was driving through all the boxes, and then I stopped before it was able to disappear. I look around- vacant all around me. I open the box, and a poorly dressed show girl it seems tumbles down on me. She is cut in half; horizontally. I look up, there are suddenly cars everywhere, people screaming and rushing towards the scene and rummaging through their purses to look for a phone to call '911'. I turn over the top half of the woman, so a face could be seen. It wasn't any woman, it was me. I was looking into the eyes of myself, and while it was such a messy sight, her face...(my face) was the only thing that was clean and pure. It was better than my face in fact. I looked at the face, and saw my eyes open. my pupils looked like nothing but a small black island surrounded by a deep blue ocean. Eyelashes to the sky.
I looked down to her/my mouth. Pearly whites, beautiful.
Lips, rosy and full.
skin- flawless.
It was me, but better.
I looked back up, the crowd of people had disappeared, and I was standing on nothing but an endless straight as a stick bridge. I look back down, the cut in half woman/myself was vanished as well.

I panic now, I hate not knowing what is at the end of something. Like what seemed to be the endless bridge where I couldn't make out where it started or ended. But I kept driving anyways. and I kept picturing different places I ran into, huge one eyed men and trees with claws trying to sweep me away.

Then I imagine myself driving, just as I am in reality, I'm going down spanish wells road thinking about how amazing it was that I got out of all of that alive, without a scratch on my car to show for it. Also thinking about how badly I wanted to tell people about the odd adventure I had just had. But then another box shows up; I accelerate...it's just going to disappear anyways.

Except, the box didn't disappear. I crashed into it and my car and myself had exploded.
And unfortunately-

I died before I could write any of it down in my blog.