Cade Hoppe’s “Halfway Out My Mind” puts the fear of falling behind inside a night drive that never quite gets started. He sits in a car outside, keys in reach, trying to find the right moment to run a red light. He wants to lose himself for a night without losing his soul in the process.
He calls himself a lover, not a fighter, then admits he sometimes wishes he had lost the war just to get some rest. His mother taught him to keep things covered, but the feelings stay inside. Even the possibility of alien abduction becomes a source of comfort. If somebody is watching, he hopes they find him funny enough to postpone eating him. He is still in the car outside, waiting for a sign. The night sky offers no directions, only the possibility of being probed. Hoppe leaves him there, halfway out of his mind.
