Night Drive

Here I am, once again. The same tire marks, same twists and turns, same headlights staring blankly ahead. The dark, dull roads flood my vision, stretching for miles. The journey seems endless, no matter how many times I take it. I sigh, mindlessly fiddling with one of the knobs on the center console.

Some time ago, I began this journey. Every night, I somehow ended up in the car, needing to clear my head. It's inevitable that I end up here, and yet I do nothing to break the cycle. Nothing to stop myself, no matter how much I dread it afterwards. Each time I get in the car, I feel like a fool. My car groans in protest, as if to say: "You really need to get a grip and do something else for a change." No matter how much resistance is shown, I ignore the warnings.

Maybe one day, I'll change. But for now, my car remains in drive, forever winding down the roads of monotony and despair.