I look at my hands.
Fingerless leather gloves, a delicate gold ring on my ring finger, nails painted cherry red.
These are the things I see and the only things I see directly infront of me that are directing where I am and where I am about to go. I focus on how ghetto my hands look. "You're such a bad ass", I say to myself amused. But I suppose this is the feeling I've been longing for, to run that very thin line of being controlled and being completely out of control.
My fingers, holding tightly to the black leather of the steering wheel, define a simple truth that highlights the intensity of the moment. This touch connects us, man and machine, and controls our co-dependence. I press my forehead against the wheel and listen to the gentle vibration of the car. I feel the turns of your engine. You feel the heavy pulsing of my heart.
My attention briefly switches to the road. The fog makes me uncertain of how much of it I really see. Of course it would have helped having the headlights on but that's something I would have done yesterday. Not tonight. Tonight, is my escape. An escape from a ritual which is my perfectly planned life.
So I wait.
In this darkness I forget what it is I am looking for. I forget from whom I am running or is it whom I am chasing? I wait for that single undefinable moment that releases my anguish and separates my thoughts from my mind.
A car speeds by.
I feel a spark inside of me.
(A spark? How slow motion that sounds!)
In a split second, NO! in a split quarter of a second there is lightning inside of me. A feeling so fast that it fails to be classified as anything humanly possible. No thinking, for thinking takes too long. No analyzing, for there isn't time to relinquish a single thought. Only acting and releasing that passive agressive.
"This one is impeccably fast", I think to myself. I chase the red car as if I were chasing my destiny, in full view but far from reach. He must be aware of my intensions by now. Why else would he still be accelerating, tempting me? Or maybe he doesn't see me at all and he's running from his own ghosts.
A red light coming up. Perfect. By now I am on his tale. I decide to stop to the left of him. A rusty little car he has. It had some work done though. Souped up with a spoiler, a lowered frame... neon lights? Were those necessary?
"Hey Ghost Rider!", I hear through my window. Ghost rider? "Nice", I say to myself. How appropriately cheesy that sounds. I let down my guard and slide my window open. "Nice car you got there", he says. "Can't say the same about you", I muffle under my breath. I proceed to smile at him and reply, "I like yours too, vintage?". He laughs, "Not as good as yours but it does wonders! Just wait and see", he turns his lights off and throws in a VROOM.
I roll my eyes. Unless he has some nitrous oxide under that hood, he doesn't stand a chance. I accept the challenge, and VROOM back.
Green light.
In an instant my heart feels weightless. I lose the red car instantly. But really, what do I care where he is. I am weightless and I am finally free.
Fingerless leather gloves, a delicate gold ring on my ring finger, nails painted cherry red.
These are the things I see and the only things I see directly infront of me that are directing where I am and where I am about to go. I focus on how ghetto my hands look. "You're such a bad ass", I say to myself amused. But I suppose this is the feeling I've been longing for, to run that very thin line of being controlled and being completely out of control.
My fingers, holding tightly to the black leather of the steering wheel, define a simple truth that highlights the intensity of the moment. This touch connects us, man and machine, and controls our co-dependence. I press my forehead against the wheel and listen to the gentle vibration of the car. I feel the turns of your engine. You feel the heavy pulsing of my heart.
My attention briefly switches to the road. The fog makes me uncertain of how much of it I really see. Of course it would have helped having the headlights on but that's something I would have done yesterday. Not tonight. Tonight, is my escape. An escape from a ritual which is my perfectly planned life.
So I wait.
In this darkness I forget what it is I am looking for. I forget from whom I am running or is it whom I am chasing? I wait for that single undefinable moment that releases my anguish and separates my thoughts from my mind.
A car speeds by.
I feel a spark inside of me.
(A spark? How slow motion that sounds!)
In a split second, NO! in a split quarter of a second there is lightning inside of me. A feeling so fast that it fails to be classified as anything humanly possible. No thinking, for thinking takes too long. No analyzing, for there isn't time to relinquish a single thought. Only acting and releasing that passive agressive.
The decision now belongs to my right foot, how hard it presses down and for how long.
I slam the acceleration and curve out of the sleeve where I was parked, lights turned off.
Sixty, seventy.. eighty kilometres an hour.
I swurve past a truck full of cattle (Mooo! lol)."This one is impeccably fast", I think to myself. I chase the red car as if I were chasing my destiny, in full view but far from reach. He must be aware of my intensions by now. Why else would he still be accelerating, tempting me? Or maybe he doesn't see me at all and he's running from his own ghosts.
A red light coming up. Perfect. By now I am on his tale. I decide to stop to the left of him. A rusty little car he has. It had some work done though. Souped up with a spoiler, a lowered frame... neon lights? Were those necessary?
"Hey Ghost Rider!", I hear through my window. Ghost rider? "Nice", I say to myself. How appropriately cheesy that sounds. I let down my guard and slide my window open. "Nice car you got there", he says. "Can't say the same about you", I muffle under my breath. I proceed to smile at him and reply, "I like yours too, vintage?". He laughs, "Not as good as yours but it does wonders! Just wait and see", he turns his lights off and throws in a VROOM.
I roll my eyes. Unless he has some nitrous oxide under that hood, he doesn't stand a chance. I accept the challenge, and VROOM back.
Green light.
In an instant my heart feels weightless. I lose the red car instantly. But really, what do I care where he is. I am weightless and I am finally free.
2 comments:
is this based on a true story? hmmm... :) in which case, good for you! If not, then get on the road!
I was driving home yesterday, decided to put the music up a lil bit, and felt like taking it upon myself to challenge every driver who pulled up next to me on a red light. Dude in souped up car was real (the convo wasn't tho). I love the acceleration on my car so naturally, me creaming him on a green light was real :) It's such a good feeling.. but only till you hit 55 on a 50km/h road lol. Then you gotta take it easy a lil bit.. to abide with the law haha! This gave the wise guy in the red car some time to catch up.. at which he passed me at 65km/h. In the end, I know I won.. who goes 65 on a 50? Pfftt.
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