It all moves out of view
This spacial slideshow of curious imagery
If you know the place, the images cast nostalgia, a padded sense of familiarity and recollections
dragged out of dusty boxes
If you don't know the place, the images leave an odd awkward sense of speculation,
the stories taken for granted behind other irises that leave you pondering
If the driver doesn't want music, the mind types itself out, fingers picking through the paperwork
The hum gains its repetitive dulling thud, and you have two friends
Sleep or boredom
They both ****

If the driver wants music, boredom still looms in the air, hanging from
the rafters from coils made of dust
But the potential for the pretty little day dream to drop across your lap is something to be admired

Here's where you learn whether you respect your driver's taste
And whether your man enough to say anything about it

And so you are polite, whether you like the music or not
The world outside still takes your eye between the small talk
Billions upon billions of cells joining in sweet matramony so many times over its a wonder so brilliant
that it would break the mind
Joining to form that house. Oh it's gone.

Your mind fills with your life
Two parts goals, work,  study, ambitions
One part relationships, lovers, friends, fueds
A dash of media intermission, those things you saw that were cool
All stirred for 3 hours with a touch of day dream sauce
Wait until the journey ends and you can forget all about it