Racing Ahead

Today has been a long day. To explain the inevitable mistakes I will make in this post, here is the story of what happened: I woke up at 4 am, had nothing to eat or drink until 8:15 pm, spent 10 hours in a car, about 8 of them on the highway. So now I think I can actually begin writing something (hopefully) not horrendous.

There's really something in it, though. Racing at 75 miles an hour over a stretch of road. When you do it for four hours straight, the world around you blurs, vanishes, everything ceases to matter. And for a total of eight hours today, half of my thoughts were echoing one line.

Up ahead there was a curve approaching...she made no indications of slowing.

Lyrics to "The Approaching Curve" by Rise Against. It's probably not the best prospect in the world that going at ridiculously high speeds, the thoughts in my mind were ones of simple suicide. But somehow, the thought doesn't frighten me. It enthralls me. And right now, I'm too tired to find fault in it. Right now, I smile at the simple beauty of that thought.

Because really, death is beautiful. It is so simple, so elegant, even in agony. Something about it is nothing short of marvelous. I figured out a while ago now that I don't fear death...I may fear pain in death, or missing something in life, but death itself holds no fear over my head. If I could talk to death, I would without so much as a moment's hesitation.

So racing along the highway, I thought of death. Nothing more, nothing less. It got me through those eight long hours, if nothing else. In the end, that's what matters about life, is it not? Just getting through it...finding our way through the hell that may surround us at a given time. Maybe none of that makes sense, or maybe it makes too much...either way, it doesn't matter, if only because right now, I don't want it to.