Fast Car- Tracy Chapman

You got a fast car

But is it fast enough so we can fly away

We gotta make a decision

We leave tonight or live and die this way

I remember we were driving, driving in your car

The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I had a feeling that I belonged

And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

And we go cruising to entertain ourselves

You still ain't got a job And I work in a market as a checkout girl

I know things will get better You'll find work and I'll get promoted

We'll move out of the shelter Buy a big house and live in the suburbs

ForzaMotorsport3

My bf bought this game, a steering wheel, and an xbox for my dad this Christmas
and I must say it is amazing! and of course he is amazing too for doing such!

I have been playing everyday since the gift was opened and I can not get enough. My dad doesn't want to admit that I'm a little better than he is.. and I know he secretly practices at night when I'm asleep lol! I only wish I could be doing this for real, not infront of a tv =(

Ghost Rider (under construction)

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.

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.

Shutup and Drive

GREY.
A Honda Civic 2000 pulls up to the right of me.
-Ha! you're mine-
The 30 something year old, wearing dark cool shades, looks at me.
-Loser, he doesn't know what I'm capable of-
GREEN.
Quick reflex; the swift, light movement of the right foot. Press hard, and release.
-Oh how good it feels-
In a matter of seconds, to go from a speed of nothing to...
-He's way behind, I observe glancing in the mirror. I see that blotch of grey that used to be his car. What a rush; satisfaction.-
... 50(km/h).. slowly rising to 60.
-No more. Don't push yourself. I proved what this sexy car can do-
Easy, smooth ride, 55, stay within the speed limit.
Left turn. I love this part of the street. The trees aline the pavement, their leaves letting blotches of sunlight peer through. Shadow, sun, shadow, sun... 50 (km/h).
-Damn. A line of cars before me, following eachother as if pulled by one string. I look at my speed... 35?!
-Who's that idiot pulling us??-
I open my window, let my arm feel the cool breeze. Maybe it'll tan- just one side of my body.
I open the sun roof. Better. Air- breathe.
Finally, the tempo picks up. Oh glorious 55!
But it'll end soon.
Sharp right semi-circle; the pavement curves.. 30 (km/h).. I dutifully obey. Yield at the end.
STOP.
My favourite part. I roll my window up. Glance left, glance back. Prepare yourself.
ACCELERATE.
Press that foot down hard. Listen to the engine roar!
I see it - flicker left, change lanes- 60!.. 65!.. 70 (km/h)! Lakeshore!- beautiful. 75..no more!
That limit is there again.
-Relax, I say to the car.
Turn the radio on.. 97.3. Yess.. boogie music! The 70's, the era I should've been born.
-"I feel like dancin' toniiighht!"
We pass the other cars, Lex and I.
Lagging by, they disappear, from the right- gone, the left- gone.
Behind.
This is nice. No-one controlling me, I make the rules here. I hold responsibility in my hands, I make the decisions.
- That's right biatches- I say to the cars awaiting to turn on my street- yield before me!- Let me pass!-
TRAFFIC.
-Shit... 30 (km'h). Spoke too fast, too soon.
The window rolls down, arm out again.
-Jeeezz! just what I was expecting.
I look in the mirror. Behind me that grey Honda again. Great.
-He wants revenge, that bastard, you see?
I'm not gunna let him. Gotta get away. He can't catch me.
-Bye sucka! I say to him, turning left into a smaller street.
High Park- Queensway- almost there.
I'm too good, too slick for him- me 'n this car (I need this Ego Boom!)
I'm truly satisfied again.
-50... 55.. 60 (km/h) Come on, Lex- Drive on.