Pac-Manning it

I like taking long drives to places that throw me into the night, far beyond my residence's zip code and area code, force me to fire up the GPS on my phone, and/or force me to pull into the nearest gas station because "Holy shit! Is it really (late)? How am I low on gas already? Where the fuck am I?"

The reason I like taking these drives is because it helps me think. I know everyone says this but it's true. There's something about driving that makes things click inside your head. I don't know if it's having to focus and keep yourself alert, alive, while inside a metal box with the power to destroy beyond your own power that alters your thought process but it's definitely "something else." It's also a scary thing, that. And I like to think that I've conquered my fear of that, or at the very least suppressed it enough to go on the freeway with the flow of traffic by myself. Los Angeles drivers are assholes.

Hmm.

There's nothing like listening to Bohren & der Club of Gore while driving into "where the hell am I?" and making another detour in "I should probably head back soon."

The only other remarkable instance of music making the drive more colorful is playing the Corneria stage music from Star Fox on the freeway.

Of course, this is much more exciting when the freeway isn't so fucking packed and forcing everyone to drop speed to 20MPH instead of the more fitting 60MPH or if you really want to do something stupid- attempting 90.

Though some would call me a reckless driver and a generally reckless human being (why? I don't know), there are some things I would not attempt like driving while intoxicated, and rapidly creeping into the triple digits of the speedometer of my car by way of flooring it. It's not even a matter of the mounts being fucked up or avoiding a ticket, it's in the interest of self-preservation, the safety of my passengers, and safety in general. As I said before, Los Angeles drivers are assholes. It isn't a difficult task to move your hand or even a finger so slightly to use the turn signals but so many goddamn times, someone avoids using the turn signals and that in turn could potentially cause accidents. Now, factor in people going beyond the speed limit and you have- something you don't want to think about because it's a gruesome disgusting notion.

As such, Corneria at 60 is fine. In a perfect world, 80 and above would be great but I'm not holding my breath for a "perfect world."

There's an indescribable freedom found on the road. It's something I didn't know I'd be so fond of or find so therapeutic. Thankfully, I've been stable enough where I don't feel so burdened by my thoughts and the environment around me that I feel the need to drive off into the night and return home with the sun. Those long hours driving to get practice are some of the best, if not among the most annoying, I've spent.

I think Gary Numan said it best when talking about "Cars"

"I was in traffic in London once and had a problem with some people in front. They tried to beat me up and get me out of the car. I locked the doors and eventually drove up on the pavement and got away from them. It's kind of to do with that. It explains how you can feel safe inside a car in the modern world, which is probably why you get things like road rage. When you're in it, you're whole mentality is different, in a car. It's like your own little personal empire with four wheels on it."
http://www.kaos2000.net/interviews/garynuman/

It's true and anyone can attest to it. Your mentality is different in a car.

And now I can embrace who I guess I'm supposed to be. (Based on the way people have been treating me.) A lone wolf. Alone. Not marred by loneliness or mauled by it but tolerant and accepting of it. There's nothing wrong with something like this. Maybe some people aren't meant to be surrounded by crowds of people. This might sound like a lamentation to you but it isn't. Nor is it an explicit acceptance of a fate unseen. It's acknowledgement that right now, I'm distanced from people (not entirely sure if I'm entirely at fault or if it's something "they" did but it doesn't matter: it is what it is). And that doesn't seem to matter either because I've got my health, I've got my wheels, and I've got a way to roll some of the burdens off of me into the night or lose shreds of them when I lose myself in the distance.

The only downside is finding nearby parking when I come home.

Hmm.

I wonder how far I'll drive next.