I really don’t know how to deal with this level of realness. The actual road passing under my aunts tires. The blood pulseing through my body at unequal intervals. Listening to the mellow cd I stuffed in my bag. I don’t know how I am supposed to sit in a car for fourteen hours and not mention the severity to my aunt. My minds already become more numb to the situation than I want to be… I don’t know why I do this. Why I become so detached from sadness. Tampa, looking for signs that tell us how to leave this state and go into the next that will lead us to our family. Our family, my family.. is so detached. We don’t know another. We are stranger in the same blood pool. My head is starting to ach and I’m going to roll down the window. Casual chats about speed limits and my sisters venture to Alaska. Oreos on supply. Thank God for phones my aunt says. She has no idea.