Driving my life

It was just last Friday that I drove again. No, not anymore the Optimus prime but my temp, Lancelot, my grandmother's car. It was a grand reunion. Shocking yet grand. The last time i drove it was 3 years back when my grandmom went vacationing and left the car to me. That time, i had 3 mos of bliss. Driving around the metropolis and going home to my temporaray abode, my apartment (which was rented out for free. business reasons). I then lived close to the office, left after work, drove to Alabang to get coffee, and be back at exactly 12 midnight to sleep.Ah. the life. the perks. Plus Dave Matthews Band.
It did not have a CD player but i was still on cassettes anyway. I had a shoebox filled with the cure, a mix of nu wave, some basil valdez,hajii alejandro, a mix of classical music, patti austin, and an old old singles soundtrack. What more could i ask for?!When my grand mom went home, it was a sad parting for me and my Lancelot.
Seeing him again was a major tragedy. Gone is the shine of the white paint which is now filled with scratches of green. Seats were undoubtedly crushed deep due to the overweight drivers it had. I had to place a very very very fat pillow so i can elevate myself. And the radio..my dear radio....would only start if you punch it three times. At least the aircon was still working perfectly after some complaints from the fan belt. Id see roach eggs on the side. eeekkkkk!!! But then again, Friday was gimmik night. It was my time to be with my girls and boys. And since my gimmik place was even far from makati, I cannot expect my friends to drive me home anymore. So alas! The former Lancelot, who is now the old King Arthur, and I journeyed to my office to my gimmik place and then back home.
I thought I'd cry on the journey. but only a tear fell because my window was not working. I had to open the other side just so i can smoke. But the radio did not fail me. The engine worked perfectly. I still went 120-150 in C5 (only for a few seconds though) until it wiggled. Blasting music from the 80's would be heard and speakers were not actually tin sounding yet. So i was fine. Ah. the memories. It was nice head banging with the Cure's Boys Dont Cry. It was so liberating shouting Under pressure with Queen and David Bowie.
Fast Cars. Driving. They give me a sense of belonging. That passersby are not the people i have to contend with. The only fear was with tricycles, motorcycles, and pedestrians. I was myself. I can curse. I can smoke. I can pray the longest prayer. I can smile. I can act. It was the only place i can overreact. But as i park, I would then forget what turns i made, what places i have passed, as if my short term memory was erased (hehe! 50 first dates!). The only thing left is the feeling of exhaustion that was the result of being so alert since i drove so fast. I'd then pause and breathe deeply. As if I was holding my breath in the duration of my trip.
Then i thought about my life now. How these past few months have been. Fast. like my driving. Everything came at the same time. A lot were good but the few that were bad were those things i cannot imagine myself doing. I felt i was floating. Too fast. Too good. It was addicting. Slowing down did not help because I was consumed with "self-magnificence". And I was stubborn. I said i was still in control but man, it was tiring. The feeling of exhaustion has been evident during the weekend that I gagged liked a teenager who had his first hangover. Up to now, my head has been aching trying to recall how everything started. Good thing I go home. To my real home. It's a reality check. If i was still going home to my former vicinity, I may have been dead from driving too fast. too quickly. I would have lost control and something else would have been behind the wheel. At least i have stopped. Where i am headed next, I do not know. Too many potholes and "mudpile"(imbento!) and stoplights and traffic. Im thankful though. If everything ran too smoothly, I could have driven to ruin my life..body and soul.