I’m the one passing you…

I love to drive fast. I don’t get to very often, but when the highway is mostly empty on a late night, I can’t help it. I push the pedal to the floor and I feel the engine ignite beneath my feet. The power is exciting. The knowing that I am doing something illegal and that I might get caught increases the adrenaline flow and I can’t help feel like part of me is alive, a part that doesn’t get to live very often. I feed on this adrenaline like a lion feasting on a fresh kill. It’s dangerous, but only mildly so, and I don’t get to be dangerous enough. Perhaps it is just a guy thing, but every once in a while don’t you feel like living on the edge?

So if you see a truck zipping past you at break-neck speeds, that is me. If I am riding your bumper and passing you like we are in a life-sized game of Pole Position, I apologize, because that is me too. Life is too full of restraint, so please allow me this momentary lapse in maturity and judgement.

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