Psychic or just Psychotic?

While driving home from California I kept having these momentary visions of a wreck, or rather, the aftermath of a wreck. I hope it was just sleep deprivation, and not some kind of psychic foreshadowing...

The car was crushed about me, upside down and tilted at an odd angle, as though it sat in a deep ditch beside the road. I was injured, and to make these flashes of a possible future more realistic, my mind dredged up every hurt, large or small, that I had ever felt and used them to concoct the bloody aftermath of a high speed roll-over. Nicks while shaving became slivers of windshield glass, chipped teeth from junior high baseball filled in for the bitten steering wheel, and a little stab wound from my late teens simulated the gear shift impaling my guts. Cracked ribs, bloody lips and noses, concussions, busted knuckles, torn ligaments, and a dislocated shoulder from twenty years of dangerous, adrenaline-junky pursuits came alive simultaneously as the results of not wearing a seat belt.

Trapped in the wreck of my body, trapped in the wreck of my car, I could feel life leaking away through all the broken spots. The change from my pockets, two CDs, and a map of the western states sat soaking in a pool of blood on the headliner right next to my face. It was clear to me that even if they could pry me from the car, I, like it, was totaled.

So... who's up for a roadtrip with the Black Pope?