Destroy All Cars Read Online Free PDF Page A

you, to the point where you don’t care if you’re alive or dead? No, I have not been dumped.
    In the past month have you gone Skinny Dipping:
    I denounce lame attempts at “rebellion” that serve only to maintain the current system. Why? Is somebody going?
    In the past month have you Stolen Anything:
    Stealing implies possession. I denounce possession. However, I have on occasion moved certain objects from one place to another.
    Ever been Drunk?
    The only people in America who haven’t been drunk are people who don’t own television sets. To these people I say: Go to the store, buy a TV, turn it on. Observe how the people in Bud Light commercials act. Now imitate these people: Dress like a “slacker,” drive your humorously feeble vehicle to a convenience store, buy some Bud Light, and drink it. Notice that sickening feeling in your stomach? Feel that wooziness in your head? That is drunkenness. You are now drunk.
    Ever been called a Tease:
    What?
    Ever been Beaten Up:
    Yes. I considered it an honor.
    Ever Shoplifted:
    Why would I have to shoplift? My parents are CONSUMER AMERICANS. They bring home carloads of useless crap every day.
    How do you want to Die:
    From natural causes. Not because of other people’s greed and stupidity.
    What do you want to be when you Grow Up:
    Alive.
    Number of Drugs I have taken:
    72 aspirin, 37 Tylenol, 48 Advil (to ease the pain)
    Number of CDs I own:
    76, not counting Bob Dylan’s “Masterworks,” which my dad insisted on buying me for Christmas. Thanks, Dad.
    Number of things in my Past I Regret:
    One. Falling in love with Sadie Kinnell. But no. I don’t regret it.
    No, I don’t regret my time with Sadie. To be honest, it was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
    The problem is what’s happened after. In the last nine months my life has gone pretty much straight downhill. I don’t even feel like myself anymore. I go to school. I eat lunch. I feel like I’m watching everything through glass. When I try to talk to other girls, I’m having a whole other conversation with myself at the same time. Talking is a waste, anyway. No one actually hears what you say. They just start talking themselves, saying irrelevant, pointless things that I already know or don’t need to know. And then I get pissed off when I don’t have anything to do on Friday night. The only time I can make sense of anything is when I write it down. But you can’t show up at keg parties with a laptop.
    It’s so weird that Sadie’s single again, that she’s outthere again. I can feel this tingle in the air, like she’s right there, like she might be sitting in her room typing something at this exact moment, or lying in her bed, or downstairs having warm milk in her kitchen.
    I can feel her presence. I can see her perfectly in my mind. Sadie. She is out there. And she is free.
February 17
    Went downtown yesterday to the Central Library so I could get some Russian stuff for my World History class. I gathered an armload of books and camped out in the main reading room.
    Then, coincidence of coincidences, who walks in? Sadie Kinnell. At first I thought she was with Will because I thought I heard his annoying dork voice, but it wasn’t him. She was by herself. I was at a back table, and she didn’t see me, so I slid down in my chair and hid behind The Bolshevik Revolution: A Pictorial Account.
    Sadie and I used to hang out at the downtown library a lot. It was one of our favorite things to do when we first started going out. We’d sit around talking and not doing our homework. Then we’d get coffees across the street at Café Artiste and talk more. She was big into animal rights then. I was into existentialism, The Stranger, anything involving cool French dudes with slicked-back hair and cigarettes.
    Anyway, so there I am, hiding behind The Bolshevik Revolution and sneaking looks across the room. Of course