Edge of the Road

And when it comes down to it, we still meet the same end. What is the point?

As my eyes follow the reflectors embedded in the dull, shadowed road, i wonder if life can really fulfill everything it's promised to be. This lost, pointless feeling seems to be all that matters and although my father sits beside me driving, my thoughts speak much louder than his fleeting words. The moon's plastered in the sky, as always, the night air is chill, as will happen time and time again. Without one person, what would change? At this moment it is so easy to just simply not care what happens, what becomes of myself. Whether the car veers off the road, or collides into an oncoming truck, would it make much of a difference? So many different journeys undisputedly lead to the same exact end, death. 

These emotions are not quite an overwhelming sadness, but more accurately a total absence of happiness and purpose. They are not intense. It's almost as if everything was wiped clean, just like a board, and washed until the colors faded to a dreary gray.  Like a doll hollowed out from the inside, i'll take the demise i'm given. My thoughts speak loudly, but they are dangerously careless. Death isn't something to be afraid of, at the end of every day there are individuals who find solace in it. If we simply crashed and it was fatal i can't quite say i would have completely wished otherwise, after all death and sleep are parallels. The difference is that death is more peaceful, never having to be woken up. Maybe we would even be able to dream, who knows?