I’m not really known for doing much out of the
ordinary other than the habits that people tell me aren’t quite that normal,
but that night was a bit different- a night of getting a little lost, a tad bit
scared, and ultimately feeling unstoppable for going in a circle.
I
started out the door for a run, hoping to find a new route in the waning
sunlight. The only thing on my mind was
a collection of words from Matthew Inman’s book, “find a loop”. I typically run here and back trails,
smashing myself against the same invisible barriers for the same result, so
this night I thought I’d find a loop.
The problem is that all the running trails I could’ve used for this
purpose stop existing after six PM. My
loop would have to be in the city.
Nearing an intersection on the bee-line path I take from my house to the
gym, I half considered abandoning the pursuit of the loop to squeeze my love
handles back into my comfort zone.
But I just so happened to be on the side of the intersection
that would require me to physically push a button to cross into the familiar
monotony, so to keep from losing stride, I turned into the grassy trail on my
left. I sort of knew this side too, just
not what was past the wooden end marker for the path I was on.
The grass went on for maybe a mile. The problem is that things are longer and
infinitely scarier when you add night and blinding headlights into the
mix. Fortunately, stumbling through
countless anthills along the trail eventually brought me to an
intersection. This is where I hoped my
journey would loop back on itself, but between my chafing testicles and
endorphin glazed mind, I decided to go a bit further, into more tall
grass. The lack of cars in this
direction was a welcome surprise until I realized that having nothing is
slightly worse than dozens of flash grenades careening towards my face at forty
miles an hour. I typically feel alone in
large crowds, but there’s a certain sense of security that comes from knowing
mountain lions and serial killers don’t attack people in groups. Here, along this grassy strip of dirt, I was
truly alone- shuffling along through the perfect spot for a lion/murderer tag
team mauling. I’ve never been able to
accurately pin down what emotions I’m feeling at any given time since it seems
that a good portion of them happen at once, but given the circumstances, I’m
fairly sure I could describe what I was feeling as terror. I’m assuming that’s the word for describing
an overwhelming desire not to be mauled by two identical entities. This would be cause to turn back. It should be cause to turn back, but my
logic/slash coward center simply couldn’t hold up against the desire to pierce
what literally felt like the heart of darkness.
There was something else too; something a bit more real than a healthy
fear of nocturnal predators. Between
heading onto the route to the left and where I eventually popped out, I was
alone, but not the alone to which I was accustomed. This time, I was the only entity that existed
in that carless stretch of land I chose to travel. This is the one time I felt separate from the
universe that didn’t involve daydreaming where I wasn’t supposed to. I found my way to a separate plane of
existence, and all I wanted was to get out.
My first thought towards the solution was to turn back, but as afraid of
the nothing that one part of my mind was, another wanted to see how far this
void would go until death or an eventual other side made itself apparent. I decided to make a compromise and go faster
in the same direction. Adventure brain
would get what it wanted, and scared brain determined that the best course of
action would be to shut up. The agreed
upon solution was the best it could hope for.
Fortunately, for both parties, an eventual end to
this universe shone in the distance; an illuminated sign from my old high
school. I don’t recall the majority of
the people or events that came from within that conglomerate of sheet-metal
encased buildings. What became truly
important was that this place became the missing link in the loop I was trying
to conceive. Through the fear and sweat
and second guesses, I created a loop. I
knew exactly what to do from this point, uniting my fragmented thoughts into a
single amorphous blob of aimless, illusory power. It had to be dispelled through a more
effective means than by trotting back home.
The solution hit me as I approached the Mormon Church. This thing really
did just hit me. I usually reconsider
and back down from things like this out of fear of someone I know judging
me. I started jogging past the
in-session church, middle fingers outstretched, panting and sweating through
the cloak of night like a pig being chased by starved Bengal tigers. I had emerged from the void I created for
myself. I was all-powerful. Better judgment couldn’t possibly hold up to
the amount of fucks I felt were ready to be released. On my last mile home, I kept my middle fingers
up, thinking only of putting them down out of fear that they might stay that
way- a thought put to rest when I said to myself “if my fingers get stuck like
this, I’ll have legal protection to continue doing this followed by piles of
disability money. There was no
counterpoint to this idiotic logic. I
was still in juggernaut land, so I went with it.
I’m fairly sure that despite the abundance of
headlights, no one actually saw my proudly erect fingers on my steadily
drooping arms. Or if they did, I was
immediately dismissed as a homeless man who recently acquired enough spare
change to go on a crack-induced rampage.
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