I know that no one reads my blogs. yet i write them anyhow. why do we feel the need to spray our ideas on any surface that will take them?
I’m continually talking, continuing the noise and yet somehow i say i need silence. Don’t ask me why I push myself into exhaustion, and then moan for a break.
I’ve realized I miss driving. I sold my car to pay for rent a few months back and just recently got into a rental car and had to drive a bit. I wanted to cry. I wanted to yell that I had missed this. How much I had missed this. I felt like racing every driver on the road, I felt like turning my music up so loud that my teeth hurt. But all I really needed was to drive.
I’m going on vacation tomorrow, and what I am most excited about is the fact that it will be an eight hour drive. I am thrilled. I don’t even have to be the one driving. I just have to be there.
I think its something about the fact that you are in your own piece of something, your own piece of metal. You are enclosed and safe, yet you are going where you want. I guess I tend to feel like I am going somewhere but I’m not safe. Or I’m safe but I’m stuck.
Does that make any sense?
The real question is why am I asking questions in a blog that I know, no one reads?
