Tuesday, January 22, 2008

Me c'est, la mort.

It was around 9pm when I left the apartment in Hollywood. I vaguely knew the directions to where I was supposed to go, and 10 minutes into the drive, I realized I passed my exit. Quickly, I got off on the nearest exit which happened to be a dark, desolate, and very scary area. Speeding and becoming very upset, I went back in search for the freeway. It happened to be sprinkling. Nothing bad, but it was sprinkling enough. I found a ramp to the freeway, so angrily and hastily, I stepped on the gas to hurry my exit. It was a three lane on ramp, and there were about ten cars behind me when I found I was going too fast. I tried to turn a little, being in the far left lane, I was about to hit the side of the ramp. My car's back wheels began to jiggle back and forth violently until suddenly my car practically launched itself sideways. I spun around a few times up the ramp until I finally stopped, facing opposing traffic. I damn near died. I got really lucky, but damn.
I'm okay, and luckily I didn't get hit, but I'm pretty emotionally messed up. I was trembling and crying practically the whole way home. I came home to tell my story, but no one really cared. Apparently Family Guy is far more important.

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