The angst of driving my car

Cactus Yordy
1 min readMar 13, 2022

I am large, I contain multitudes; when I am 15-over I actualize a need to be seen as Battinson, a small man in a large car, going fast and trending faster, losing and winning a war of wills, even of worlds, between my annual safe-driving reimbursement and the asphalt-as-therapist, a large expression in a small motion, another inch of the heel. I imagine I could be well-practiced and more assertive in stating my emotions and honoring that truth, and through tight corners, over open freeways, I could manage that pressure; there is a citizen of our favorite New-York-as-a-comic-book-city that has witnessed…

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