ALEX WRIGHT CONTAINS MULTITUDES

by Alex Wright

I’m not sure how many times I’ve done this dance but this doesn’t feel like my first waltz about the stars. This doesn’t seem like the first dream that I’ve figured out how to wake up in and keep living inside of.

I was on one of my first runs playing guitar for Heel Turn and we’d just played a fun show in Savannah with our friend Steffan’s bands. We hung out for a little bit after the show but rather than staying the night, we decided to go on and hit the road and drive part of the way to Birmingham. 

Something that doesn’t always get mentioned with the romance of the road is how dark it gets driving at night – only seeing as far as the van headlights will show you. Engulfed by night on all sides. Sometimes on the highways and interstates you get more lights than on backroads, but you’re still driving through an overwhelming darkness. It’s almost impossible to tell where you are or where you’re going. It looks the same in every direction.

We made it to a random motel sitting in the middle of some liminal exit that looked the same as every other exit at 2:37 in the morning. I remember us stopping and getting out of the van and noting the emptiness we were surrounded by, but I have zero recollection of ever going in the motel.

The next thing I remember, it’s daylight and we are in a McDonald’s drive-thru and Josh is in the driver’s seat ordering a coffee but I don’t remember anyone else getting anything. We were back on the road and I’d traded my back row window seat to give someone else a chance at comfort while I took the seat closest to the passenger side back doors. 

This particular seat leaves very few positions to get comfortable since there is a gap between the seat and the door. I decided that exhaustion outweighed my desire for safety, so I proceeded to unbuckle my seatbelt and place my forehead on the door window as I slouched forward and let the sounds of the road lull me to sleep. 

I don’t know how long I’d been out but the sound of someone screaming shook me awake as I peeled my sticky forehead from the window and opened my eyes long enough to see the dirty ground coming closer to me through the window before a sliver of immediate darkness grew to swallow me whole.

Then, like a strike of lightning, I was back in the van.

Electricity lingering on my tongue.

I was in the same seat but this time facing the front of the van with my head propped up against the front passenger’s seat and my seatbelt on. I shook my head and looked around with slight panic, but everyone was fine. There’d been no wreck. The van hadn’t rolled. We were still on our route back to Alabama.

I’ve felt what it’s like to wake up from a dream within a dream, and this felt different from that. I couldn’t – still can’t – shake the feeling that I experienced something.

I kept it to myself because I felt like I’d sound crazy and I recognize that I probably still do – but also in the years since that’s happened I’ve experienced even more that I can’t explain.

I’m not going pretend to understand the nature of reality. I have some theories but that’s all they are. I’m happy to share them with open minded people but I’m not really out here trying to convince anyone of anything. I’m comfortable in the consideration of what could be, while I understand others maybe have a hard time with the not knowing.

Personally, I find beauty in the mystery and personal discovery.

I’m not sure how many times I’ve done this dance but this doesn’t feel like my first waltz about the stars. This doesn’t seem like the first dream that I’ve figured out how to wake up in and keep living inside of.