"joan of arc had style, jesus had style"

I just went for a ride. It took me past familiar roads, familiar walks, and familiar fuck ups. I shuffled through a soundtrack of familiar bore and thought as though "familiar" just meant "times up". It was a 45 minute drive. Nothing impressive. Nothing compared to the 6 hour solo journeys I'd embark on when gas prices were reasonable and my energy levels were adequate. But it got me where I was going. I skipped past the familiar... er... "times gone by" tracks and found myself tapping my toe to sounds I never imagined my self choosing to hear. Last I remember was "They can fire everything they've got. What do you think? I'm sunk? I will float on. I have burned that bush that covered my light, and now I'm scared I won't burn that bright".

I used to live my life by song lyrics. I used to pretend I could relate to things I really had no clue about. Now, you may think things aint changed all that much. Thing is, they have. Now I don't put myself in the situation of the song, I put the song in the situation of me. For me, that previous quote is what the past month of my life has been all about. What it meant when it was written, I could give a fuck less. What he felt when he was writing it? I'm just a voyeur, I'll never relate to the writer, I'm just trying to relate more to myself.

I shut my eyes and dredged on. Down those familiar roads; muscle memory. I shut my eyes and round a familiar turn, and imagined myself shooting over the curb ahead. I drove through 20 some yards of well-manicured grass and then down a 40 degree embankment surrounding the neighborhood pond. Next thing I know, I'm finding out that my car doesn't float. Well, now I know.