From the Backseat


Sometimes, I sit in the backseat, and give everyone bad directions.


It’s partially because I can’t help getting lost myself

and whether we’re miserable or not, don’t we all love company?


Maybe I should clarify. I am talking about metaphorical dislocation,

about being desubicado

in space, spirit, time and intellect.


I am talking about being a raven when everything is shiny,

or Albert Einstein trying to walk home at night.


This is disorientation, yes, and confusion, but even more than that, this is not knowing, being unsure

and curious, asking questions and not always understanding or believing the answers

because sometimes they’re not good enough and we have to ask more.


What I mean is that I want to know that being lost is not contagious

and not avoidable.



Sometimes, I sit in the backseat, and give everyone bad directions.


It’s partially passive aggressive

because I am mad that you put me there, instead of including me in the intimacy

of a front seat experience


and instead of letting me drive.


The problem may be that I have not declared that I will drive in a compelling enough voice.

When I say it, you laugh at me and roll your eyes

even when I say “No, but seriously,”

you ignore me, as if you know I am second-guessing myself

that I am not confident enough to be a driving decision-maker.



Sometimes it feels like I am sitting in the backseat, giving everyone bad directions

when actually I am not.


Sometimes I am giving good directions and sometimes I am not giving directions at all

only making suggestions.


Why doesn’t anyone know the difference?

The View from the Backseat


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