Driving in Circles
Field Trip | No.70
Field Trip is a homebase for the research and references that inform the work and life of designer Lauren Scarlett
[RESEARCH ©FT]
Over and over again, I drive in circles in silence, thinking about my bloodline and our natural tendency to shut it off and not talk about it. A genetically flawed communicator, but tried so hard to fight it; I convinced myself that maybe I could be somebody’s girl. But I couldn’t land the nice guy, and I could never blame him; I’m not the girl a mother dreams of for her baby.
So now I’m comfortably numb in the smoking area, being the best version of me. Whiskey soaked in the seams of the layer between my skin and the wall. The smell of leather donned like armour is the only thing that knows where I’ve been. I drink it down and look right through him, thinking, who the fuck was I kidding. Full circle back to what I know, and I love it. He keeps it light, I like it deep — no one does it like me, and he knows it.
The girls back home keep having babies, and I just want to go far. Contentment never lasts long, and I’m going round again. I want to do a million things but can’t decide on one, so instead, I just do nothing. No financial inheritance, but cool, calm, and collected. My favourite habits are my bad ones, so I get off to the thought of us, over and over again.