drrieux

The routine night drive becomes a religious experience. It seems to be the only time to escape from the madness of the surrounding world because there is nothing for miles around, but vast unlit roadway. As the city approaches the stars fade and the night sky glows. The feeling of oneness dissipates just like the stars creating a feeling of detest to the chains of the working life; a slave to the almighty dollar, to put it in a crude fashion, but in all actuality that is the only way to survive. Other systems that try to eliminate the capitalist way of life fail due to the factor of human nature, and so the toiling must continue. The shining red stoplight is a jolt back to reality, and a signifying mark that the realm of tranquility has been interrupted by the hustle and bustle of city life. Even at this late of an hour, the city is teeming with cars and people. It never sleeps. Like the human body, the city may enter semi-dormant periods, but it never truly rests. The city continues to consume and produce waste; it breathes out its noxious fumes and even changes weather patterns. Concrete giants continue to grow and grow in an image some male architects fantasized fallacy. Ever expanding, it sprawls for hundreds of square miles, like a mountain peaked in its center and sloping downward. The main drive is blocked with vehicles stopped and lined up like inmates, there seems to be an accident far down the road. Further up the road a woman was diligently attempting to put on her make-up before her night on the town, while she was driving, and she happened to cross paths with a man who had just left a tavern with a few too many ppm of alcohol in his system. Both parties were at fault in this situation, but who is to blame. The man made poor judgment for deciding to drive when he knew her was inebriated, but the woman also miscalculated her own abilities by taking her eyes off the road and hands off the wheel to make sure that here eyeliner was just perfect for tonights hunt. Fault cant be placed either way it seems, but it matters not because some outside force has decided that since they were both at fault, both should lose there lives. With these decisions made by these two misguided individuals, the job that is being driven to may be lost as a result. Though this would be a legitimate excuse, there have already been numerous warnings given about being late. If the traffic doesnt clear up in the next 15 minutes there would be no need for dealing with this overwhelming and strenuous part of the drive. Normally this wouldnt be such a bad proposition, but bills are not able to pay themselves and some kind of monetary funds are needed to sustain life. Looking at the clock and realizing that there is no time to make the venture and then examining the cash content in the dirty jeans pockets, something snaps and the course changes. Finding a loop hole the vehicle is quickly turned about and driven off back into the inky black night, away from the city lights and down the highway.
Speeding down the road, the mind races with questions about this decision and its justifications, but if termination is inevitable then there is no purpose in wading through the dense sea of irritated drivers. Furthermore, something more has occurred, like the light switch that kick started creation. The burden of daily drudgery has finally broken its precipice and tumbled, but rather than allow this to cause collapse into demise, it has alleviated the weights that hindered the spreading of wings to soar away from this dismal existence. An idea to leave behind everything of the past, excluding only the current surroundings, and evolving into something greater and more fulfilling, much like a butterfly giving up its ground crawling ways to grow wings and fly. There is only one need from the past, the one thing that will be strived for to help with this process; something that will help to create this new existence, to fuse with. Speeding down the highway, the wind seems to be pushing the vehicle as if it has become invigorated by this decision. With the windows down it howls in applause and sings a sweet melody of approval. Upon arrival at the domicile, the car is left running outside, while this intermediate mission is accomplished. Inside the article is quickly identified and procured; a profound sense of joy is felt in this occurrence. The feeling that this is something worthwhile is consuming, spreading like a drug through the bloodstream, causing the fingertips to tingle and respiration to become more rapid. It is the picture of the young female, the same female from the dream, the one person that has been sought after for so long without any knowledge. She has transcended a mortal existence becoming something spiritual and enigmatic, no not becoming, she has always been, it is not her that is changing. Her being has remained dormant all this time, until the right moment when the two paths would collide in a brilliant crash. Is this destiny? That seems to be the only explanation for a scene such as this. If it is destiny then there was never a choice in the matter, and somehow this event had to occur. This idea is a double edged sword because it makes one feel out of control of the decisions of life, and that some outside puppet master is pulling all of the strings, but on the other hand it is comforting to know that some reciprocal part has been created to fill all of the subtle empty spots in this existence. These two beings begin on separate paths that converge to a point and merge into one. It is comforting to know that loneliness will always be temporary. Some might ask about those that never find there destiny and wind up alone and miserable? From a mortal perspective this is a most distressing idea, but one that shouldnt be the cause of so much worry and vain searching. Life has no beginning or end, like energy it can neither be created nor destroyed; it is a continuum, constantly changing its states with each passing lifetime. In the same way love holds no boundaries within such a human idea as time, it exists and longs to be found throughout existence. Though the paths may take many lifetimes to converge, eventually they become one and create bliss unlike any dream. It is true that one day the bliss must end because of the beginning and ending of life cycles, but no matter how far the paths separate, they will always converge again in their own cycle. Looking at the picture, no more thought to the future is necessary because the knowledge of what needs to be done is already inborn, and the car speeds back off into the night towards the horizon, with a blissful tune in the air.
The city lights begin to fade in the background and as they do the amount of stars in the sky grows and grows until there seems to be more sparkling white than velvety black. Shades of purple and red provide the backdrop in the cloudy atmosphere of the Milky Way. Times like these make a convertible car the most useful because one can feel as though she is surrounded by the night sky, rather than only being able to admire it through the small dimensions of a few windows. Traveling eastward the shoreline is a long way away, but the sudden decisions and realizations has provided the energy necessary for such a journey. Fatigue will surely be ignored tonight through sheer excitement of new ideals. No amount of caffeine or any other stimulating drug could provide the sensation of accomplishment. It is a high that cannot be made by man synthetically, but is produced only naturally through actions. By fulfilling some sort of self important duty, the mind goes into a type of euphoric state in which it feels invincible and able to tackle anything. Perhaps this is why those who create tend to create much. Their accomplishments give them the energy and ability to achieve more and more, while the person who allows themselves to stagnate never amounts to anything. It seems that action is the key to all advancement; it is the only thing that makes any logical sense. This must be why the toil of daily work rituals has been going on so long, and why misery has been the pervading emotion for many years. Never was any action taken to change it; to attempt to create something new or participate in something different. Just like Immanuel Kant had his reading of David Hume to awaken him out of his dogmatic slumber, that one incident of immense frustration seems to have jumpstarted a dormant mind full of desire, but stuck in neutral. Looking over the picture of the girl can be seen and her words are repeated over and over, O tre-tu m'amour? Pourquoi m'as-tu trouv encore? The image of her lips speaking those words is still vivid and drives itself even further into the mind in this state. The accelerator is pressed to the floor and the powerful 8-cylinder engine roars as the car gives an inertial lurch and speeds off into the night, while the words, Im coming for you love. Dont worry. Ill find you are spoken and trail off behind the car.