In the backseat of a taxi riding down the lane is no place to think. You start going all crazy. Maybe it’s watching the white and yellow lines whiz by, blur, and merge into some hypnotic string. Maybe it's listening to crappy music that some old geezer blairs as he charges you 5 bucks a block and a 10$ car charge. May its just because you are crazy in the first place.

I watched the ligths whiz by. The neon plugs about XXX Girls and all night slurpies burn my eyes. The green, yellow, red, red yes red, of the traffic lights reflect onto the pavement creating these gorgeous pools in the rain.

From the back seat of a taxi you can see the world whiz by full force, full intensity. Prostitutes hustle and slurp in alleyways. Murderers prowl the club scene looking for their next kill thrills. Drunks stumble through trash and vomit up tears and years into overflowing cardboard boxes. From the back seat you can see everything in glowing technocolor on double, tripple fastforward.

You go crazy sitting back there. It's enough to make you loose all sense of safety, health, well-being, and spiritual connection. It's like flashing through lives at the speed of flipped pages. No clear purusal just instant glimpses and subconscious overlaod. Crazy. Crazy, I tell you. The back of a taxi will kill you if you let it.

Tonight... I let it.

JL