kanji

05 July, 2004
ticket to ride, white line highway

so, getting back to the point i started... oh, about a year ago: disruption of the status quo is a good thing.

immersing myself in a week of 110 octane fumes, BolivianMarchingPowder, beer&Stolichnaya, miles of distance from the familiar, and people of all descriptions from all points of the globe made for adventure of the highest order.

a purging, if you will.

as my significant other proclaimed that the subject "bores the living shit out of her" (borrowing from one of my favorite off-colour remarks), i'd all but given up any motorsports diversions. despite a life of foreign automobiles, an allergy to good ol' boy only-in-a-circle billboard racing, and itch for swiftness, the last event i'd attended was nearly eight years ago at the pseudoN�rb�rgring of West Virginia. hey, at least i gave it a try, succumbing to others' wishes.

the only problem with that style is that is never turns out to be reciprocal. so, fuck that.

those impetuous days of last year, simply proclaiming my need to do some things that only one of us could appreciate and doing it have paid off. for the both of us, as she's jetting to Orlando in two weeks for a family reunion with her former in-laws.

everybody's happy. or content, more correctly. fantasy worlds are relative.

chest-pounding acceleration, the taste of catfish sandwiches, late-night conversation, the bizarre drone of hispanic TV, and the slideshow of miles... i'll keep that catalogued for a while.

far superior to the mundane sarcasm and pettiness that awaited, upon the return.

perhaps it was the full moon, last week, or forces unseen... but it seemed that erratic trips were the norm. insincere flirtations, public sexual displays, social upheaval... it was as if everyone back home and at work were intent on making life a pale imitation of a perverse reality show. i could not wait to distance myself from it all.

except, pestilence was waiting, as well.

i've no idea where the germs came from, but they found me, Thursday. and remain. attending to the stepdaughters' young sons and the speed with which they travel during the weekend, playing host, and taking care of business over the holiday, led to total burnout.

damn, the holiday feeling burns away all too fast, like the fuse of a firework.

and, grinding sameness endures.

except, i'm banking some more time away, for next month.

.


hit me with your rhythm stick




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