there are rare moments in time, where we pause to reflect on the good fortune or instant success or happiness that is bestowed upon us, by whomever, or whatever. I think the cliche for this is to stop and smell the roses.
remember that there are things bigger than yourself. but more often than not, it's those things that are smaller and more compact, the often forgotten and overlooked things, that make the difference.
the difference between what, is a question I will always ask. and never get an answer to.
but here's me, at 5am. speeding down the pitch black back roads of gatineau quebec, racing to an unknown location. all I know is I want a slurpee. and in this exact moment, the only thing that will make me feel whole, will be that slurpee.
Quebec doesn't believe in slurpees. they put all their faith into slush puppies. which are a far inferior cousin to the one and only slurpee.
my speeding, it's justified.
and as I push the gas harder and feel TGM react and the white lines blurring I listen to Stone Temple Pilots - Big Empty. and the irony of "driving faster in my car, falling farther from just what we are" is not lost on me.
and yes I do light a cigarette, and I watch the flame of the lighter ignite the end and smile. because this is a perfect moment.
you cross a hundred bridges in your life. and I mean this in a literal way. to and from gatineau to ottawa, you have to cross at least one. 3 by my count from my house to the closest 24 hour gas station that's pumping out frosty treats in inhumanly large plastic cups. 3 bridges. and every single one I rarely take notice to. except on the way back. the first one is over the canal. and it's barely lit so the only thing you can see in the distance is flickering street lights heading off to vanier. hardly worth the second glance I give it.
the second one is my favorite. to or from ottawa, it's always showing me downtown somewhere. and at night, without the annoyance of traffic or blinding truck headlights, this bridge. these lights and this city, are the most beautiful thing I've seen all day.
the radio is catching the very end of Lucky Now, by Ryan Adams. "I feel like somebody I don't know. are we really who we used to be? am I really who I was?"
this makes me miss Bitzy. the slurpee, the darkness, the memories of our frequent misadventures going no where and everywhere all at once. I even take a minute to look at the empty seat beside me, and the empty seat behind me where Moose should be. this would be a perfect moment, if they were there.
the last moment I'm taking before I pull into my parking spot, is a hill just before maloney, off labross in QC. I'm barely passing the legal speed limit when I catch the view in a conscious moment and decide to speed up. I hit 70 before the hill dips down, and I take my foot off the gas just to see how fast I can go. what limits I can really push out here in the middle of the night. I'm listening to I wanna make it by Queens of the Stone Age. and all I can think about is Her. and how I envision we'll collide eventually in a giant pile of morally bankrupt laughter, and I'll let myself for once, be ok with not knowing how it's going to end.
I just can't recall what started it all
Or how to begin in the end
I ain't here to break it
Just see how far it will bend
Again and again, again and again
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