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The sign read SPEED LIMIT 65
He was going 60 with the cruise control on. Pushed on the pedal to gain the extra 5 and hit the cruise control button once more to set it....only this time it was different.
Then it came.
A thought.
Like a fly on the back of your neck just dancing around driving you mad. Only your hands are busy doing something else, but once your done, oh you better believe its in for it. Death. More than death. Have your fun, because your 24hr lifespan will be cut down today sir or ma'am.
but nothing.
there was nowhere to reach. This thought had no point of origin. It was embedded so deep that he didn't know what to do...except think.
"I do this everyday. Everyday I come down that same slope and speed up 5mph. Everyday."
He narrated the possible "what if's" that would stem from a life like this one. That he would have this same thought one morning as he got ready for work. Dressed and ready for work, in his khaki pants and sky blue button shirt tucked in and all. He would be aligning his tie in the mirror and think this exact same thought again. This exact same moment. Then again once more, who knows how much more time down the line. Then again somewhere else.
Then once more.
He felt like a premise to a life shaking romantic comedy. He was all Reuben Feffer of a sudden, but where was Polly Prince?
Nowhere. This wasnt a movie.
This was real.
[LATER]
Driving with some friends to McDonald's, he pondered the thought of discussing this aloud. He usually kept this sorta thing to himself, but he felt this one was to big.
"Do you ever feel like..."
He explained the dilemma.
The night continued with the topic on and off mixed in with the charades of the night and other topics, and one comforted him whilst it went completely over the head of the other. As expected.
There was most certainly some reassurance though.
The Self Saboteur's blade had been gently removed from his own neck.
Placed on the table.
Perhaps the Self Saboteur was in fact rather had a Fear of Success.
...were they one in the same?
He was never one for label stamping. Especially on himself.
....but here we are
Posted by Morris in - 2.12.2009
12:32 AM
He drove back from school, like he did everyday. Thinking of what to do once he arrived back to his city. Of course the movies he had to return were a glowing thought on the frontal lobe of his brain. The car descended down an overpass, the last one before the stretch between the cities he travels every weekday.The sign read SPEED LIMIT 65
He was going 60 with the cruise control on. Pushed on the pedal to gain the extra 5 and hit the cruise control button once more to set it....only this time it was different.
Then it came.
A thought.
Like a fly on the back of your neck just dancing around driving you mad. Only your hands are busy doing something else, but once your done, oh you better believe its in for it. Death. More than death. Have your fun, because your 24hr lifespan will be cut down today sir or ma'am.
but nothing.
there was nowhere to reach. This thought had no point of origin. It was embedded so deep that he didn't know what to do...except think.
"I do this everyday. Everyday I come down that same slope and speed up 5mph. Everyday."
He narrated the possible "what if's" that would stem from a life like this one. That he would have this same thought one morning as he got ready for work. Dressed and ready for work, in his khaki pants and sky blue button shirt tucked in and all. He would be aligning his tie in the mirror and think this exact same thought again. This exact same moment. Then again once more, who knows how much more time down the line. Then again somewhere else.
Then once more.
He felt like a premise to a life shaking romantic comedy. He was all Reuben Feffer of a sudden, but where was Polly Prince?
Nowhere. This wasnt a movie.
This was real.
[LATER]
Driving with some friends to McDonald's, he pondered the thought of discussing this aloud. He usually kept this sorta thing to himself, but he felt this one was to big.
"Do you ever feel like..."
He explained the dilemma.
The night continued with the topic on and off mixed in with the charades of the night and other topics, and one comforted him whilst it went completely over the head of the other. As expected.
There was most certainly some reassurance though.
The Self Saboteur's blade had been gently removed from his own neck.
Placed on the table.
Perhaps the Self Saboteur was in fact rather had a Fear of Success.
...were they one in the same?
He was never one for label stamping. Especially on himself.
....but here we are
This post has 1 comments
February 13, 2009 at 6:06 PM
every time I see a 60 sign on the freeway I think of this blog.
thanks
(good blog)
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