Black side down, shiny side up.
A joke instruction on my new driverless vehicle. It’s meant to be a reference to the car’s simplicity. Just set it on the street and you’re good to go. I didn’t find it much different than all the others, but it made me chuckle. That’s definitely a plus.
I looked at it park outside my house by itself as I stood outside watching it with pride. I bet if that douche-bag Billy drove by my house right that instant he would have turned green with envy. He’d have wanted my car, the car with the joke on the instruction manual. Ha.
It did its job well. It took me from one point to another, it listened to my requests for music and it gave me good suggestions on videos to watch and places to eat, but I was not content. It seems I never am. It wasn’t any different than the others, it wasn’t any different than the one I had before. The novelty grew old fast and the root of my problems came screaming back from the depths of my soul.
You’re worthless, you’re boring, even in your new speed-mobile.
Through the windows, across the asphalt and the currents of wind generated by the speed of my car and the others around it, I can see the people in their own little homes, their portable rooms. Most lost in the myriad different screens and gadgets around them, others working, a rare few kissing with their partners, and the rest, like me, wearing a frown on their face. Funny how they only look that way when they don’t see me looking at them. Every time another man or woman catches me gazing in their direction they look back and smile… and wave… and pretend.
I do it too. I hide the emptiness inside me, the void in my eyes, the apathy in me. For the sake of appearances, you know?
Black side down, shiny side up. Ha.