Velocity

Of course, it wasn't always so. I've had exciting moments in my life: I've gazed out over the Pacific Ocean, climbed on stage and played music I wrote, I've been in love and loved in return. Highlights of my life. And I'm sure that's how it is for most of us: we cherish such memories as the peaks amongst the boredom and tedium that makes up 99% of our time on earth.

Currently, I'm trying to find some of these from the last 12 months, but it seems to be a haze of static and grey. There may be something tangible in there somewhere if I look hard enough. Then again, I never was any good at those magic eye puzzles.

Something that does eventually emerge is a moment last summer. I bought a car. A really beautiful car that gave me a buzz just sitting in it and shallow as it is, I liked the attention it got me. I liked it when strangers would nod in approval and say "nice car". Of course, for every one of them, another would have said "twat", but I'm used to that already.

Driving on the M6 between Lancaster and Carlisle last summer, I saw no cars ahead and none behind. Temptation struck me hard and I pressed my right foot down. As I recall it, I got to about 110 mph before my nerve finally gave way. The burst of giggles that followed, with the adrenaline still working it's magic, was probably more dangerous than the speed.

A couple of months ago, the cam belt went. Currently, she's sat in a brick coffin, waiting for the decision of whether repairs are plausible or not. I miss her. Part of me thinks I should spend whatever it takes to get her back on the road, the other thinks I should give it up and use the cash to try to shake my life up, somehow.