Analysis of cruise control

As the clouds swarm the rooftops and the tears belonging to the souls of the sky come crashing down onto the black pavement which stretches throughout the town,
my town,
my thoughts come to a halt. Throughout a lifetime, it is apparent that to any living creature the mind is an imperitive tool needed to move, to think, to breathe.
But mine? No, not this time. For this minute and this minute only, the palette in the top of my body resting underneath the hair on my scalp which covers my hardened skull is stuck in ease,
cruise control,
and out of my control. neither thoughts of abundant sunrays pouring onto my porcelain face nor decadent colorful wild flowers dancing in the sweet summer breeze are entering my body any longer. What i crave to say, what i want to hear, what i need to see, is no longer up to me. my mind is sitting behind the round and smooth leather steering wheel, grasping the stick shift in the center console and clutching down on the pedals which impede the floor.
How i love to let my mind gain power during a warm summer shower.