Car Life
My Life Underneath A Full Moon
What its been like sleeping at the same rest stop
I stare through my mesh window covers and watch the street lamps turn on — one by one, the lot is illuminated, and no longer is the moon working full-time.
I’ve been here every night, resting my heavy head on the damp pillow from the night before. The humidity here doesn’t dry anything that falls victim to the onslaught of water.
I’ve tried, but my carpet indoors is still wet.
My car is damp inside, leaving every morning suspected to large amounts of condensation making its home on top of the roof. Strangely, I greet the morning dew with a tired smile — an almost heavenly response to the daily struggles I face.
I look at the moon to my right and see a few trucks idle their engines.
A sound I learned to fall asleep to, even if it meant waking up every hour. The highway sits across the lot — loud and clear. I hear cars drive throughout the night — engines howling and echoing on the two-lane highways of North Carolina.
How lovely.
Some nights it’s quiet. And, most nights are loud. But I prefer it that way. Loud. Because my body has now become accustomed to the noise.
Silence is a thing of the past.
No longer am I camping in the neck of the woods, deep in the mountains, with nothing but the sounds of the conversations of the trees carrying out in the wind. No longer am I near a babbling creek, as clear as day with a lone deer blending its body in the bushes — prying away from hungry predators nearby.
And no longer am I alone in the vast land, roaming in my car and seeing sights galore to my heart’s content.
Joyful in meeting neighbors in their rigs — vehicles of all kinds. Even though we don’t say anything to each other, I greet their campers nevertheless with utter excitement, knowing that we are all walking similar paths but on different roads.
We understand each other in a way.
There is more to life.
That life is worth every breath in rediscovering its meaning every year that we turn a different number. In a way, life dissects within our fingertips — nuanced beyond time.
A simple touch and zest for life is all we need to see the world through a new lens again.
I see life with a colored lens every time my number ages in the experience like a mulled red wine ready to be savored. Only a few can taste the subtle notes of pepper.
And I’m not one of them.
There are times when I smell hay instead of grass. And at other times, I taste blueberries instead of grapes.
As with anything, my taste for life comes as is. There’s never a wrong answer to what I digest every day. I don’t get it right every time because I can only assimilate what I can take. And the rest I leave for another time.
Perhaps, at another day, a month, or even a year. I’ll digest it when I have the space to do so.
I’m a regular here at this rest stop. People have noticed. The workers noticed. And the law enforcement comes through every once in a while to check.
I’ve seen them sprawled across the east and the westbound highways of both rest stops — parked to see when I would come for the night.
I’ve seen the sheriff’s patrol car at places where I tend to my needs. Such as Planet Fitness, where I take a shower, at a Walmart parking lot where I fill my water jug, and now at my favorite library.
I’m starting to wonder if I have a tracking device in my car. I don’t know if they think I don’t know what’s happening around my surroundings, but I sure do know that the sheriff is watching me.
At this point, I might as well wave at them. Or I can wave at the security cameras placed at the rest stop and spook them.
Generally, this is a safe place where I decided to rest my head.
But a general rule of thumb still applies — rotating is a good idea to divert criminals away from peering eyes. Someone is watching me and my routine, knowing that I sleep here every night.
I let my guard down here as I’m tired and restless. And I know my comfortability here will be the last of me if I continue to seek routine out in the open.
I’m no stranger to finding new places to sleep. But I come with a full-time job, and my newfound freedom has changed. Seeking routine is important to me especially with a job in tow now.
Navigating these waters of living in my car while showing up to work and ending work with a blessed heart is a work in progress.
It’s hard. At times difficult.
I drive to many locations to nourish my needs. By the time I reach this rest area I’m exhausted beyond means. But I don’t want to complain as I see other souls out on the street, clothes dirtied and stained by the ground they sleep on.
My heart weeps for their unheard voices, stories, and memories. My heart weeps for their tentative soul that keeps showing up to be seen, heard, and listened to. To be given a chance, whatever their reasoning may be. My heart weeps for those that are less fortunate than me.
I’m grateful to have the living breath to even complain under a tin roof of my civic. Even if there is a downpour of rain that is loud and clear, I’m still damn grateful for it all.
The full moon stares at me, waiting for me to fall asleep.
I can’t. But I will.
I’ll try like the souls on the street that show up. I’ll try because I want to taste the grapes and smell the hay instead of the blueberries and the grass.
Even if it’s for one day, I would like to swirl the flavors in my mouth to anticipate my blissful outcomes.
If I succeed, would life be more different than now?
Would I perceive life differently after tasting grapes instead of blueberries?
Or would the subtleties of them be no different in how flavorful life can be to what we make it out to be?
Will grapes flourish me, or will they be my downfall?
I curl onto my bed platform and sweat. It’s 10:10. And I close my eyes and dream.
I dream of tasting grapes and smelling hay on a blueberry farm near a grassy field.
Life is complex, even more so in a tiny car.
But I still close my eyes and pretend to drift off into my dreams. After all, I have tomorrow to start again, to live again, breathe again, and taste again.
Whether it be grapes or blueberries, they both come from flowering plants.
And life will still be the same.
Life update
The seasonal jobs I applied to never ended up working out for me. The original plan was to continue my travels and live on the road with my savings while earning money. But I was rejected countless times.
And so I made the decision to move to North Carolina and stick with a full-time job.
I want to still have space for Medium to write and let my creative art flow through pen and paper. But it’s been hard when my body and mind have been restless every day.
I hope you guys understand.
I’m doing my best navigating this new journey while still staying grounded with gratitude that I finally found a job. Also, I’ve been looking for a place before winter comes. I’ve only experienced early winter in my car in Utah and Idaho.
And, it was not pleasant at all.
I wish to have a temporary safe place before winter. So I’m currently looking for a room to rent while I start designing my tiny house on wheels.
Thank you for your continuous support in this journey. I’m hoping that everything will work out one way or the other.
And even if it doesn’t, I’ll still be here.
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As with everything,
Never stop loving yourself. Stay beautiful, wild, and free.
