As we drove, the scenery changed, flashed by, glimpses of new and uncharted lands. These did not excite me. The radio though, it changed, it crossed boundaries. New voices. The talked at me, some to me. I could hear them search for my admiration.
My admiration was reserved.
The radio carried on talking. The rolling news changing the shape of the world, whether we accepted it or not. The chatter bouncing around the car, the reverberation of the sound around the confines leading to a dreamlike trance. The trance lasting as long as the journey lasts. The buzz and hum of the tires. The chattering voices. The glinting sunshine. It all fades into a montage in my memory. More movielike, than a lived experience.
Listening to the radio was like being wrapped in a comfort blanket. Its sounds washed over and bathed me a feeling of wellbeing. The words swirling around my head, some I understood, and some I didn’t. I can still vaguely remember the sounds, the feeling of the headrest pressing into me, the seatbelt at times making me feel claustrophobic. The slight feeling of nausea. The radio playing in the background can still bring me feelings of nausea and claustrophobia. It doesn’t matter where I am, I just feel a bit queasy, then after a minute or two, the feeling will subside.