Driven to Success

I just want to succeed.

I can't.

I fail all over.

I come so close and run out of gas or fall asleep and crash.

I may be bending fenders, but at least I never cross the center line.

I need to stop staring at my car - trying to admire shine and forget flaws.

I'm trying, but I just hit another guard rail while I was introspecting. Now I'm compelled to pull over and stare at my newly dented fender.

I'm so jealous of those who drive mint cars - hardly ever pulling over to stare at their dents.
I make fun of them, too, because they drive like they don't know their cars or dented! This, strangely, gives me a feeling of superiority even while I stare from inside a car with rust in its dents and no hood. Later, I know, they'll casually pull into a shop, pay cash, and drive off not bothering to check their rearview mirror.
They've been carefully saving their money in case of an "accident", as good drivers do, and pay a low premium because of their, in comparison to me, stellar driving records.

Usually, their dents are caused by drivers like me, and then they have the gall to offer to help pay for my damages, too, because I just spent my savings on a set of new blingin' rims & tires, which, by the way, I just curbed parking outside the church last week.

Sometimes, most of the time, I don't even pay attention to where I'm driving - perhaps that's a factor in my frequent collisions. Good drivers tell me the journey to the destination ought to be the focus, not the car. I tell them they've never driven a Porsche. Still, I'll never own a Porsche, and even though I'm speeding all the time as is, I'm still about 1500 miles behind their minivans.

The destination is hardly in sight. I'm tempted to turn my car around and drive back home, but that's a horrible view and I know I outgrew it long ago. Not to mention it's deserted, as the rest of the family left years ago.
I'd just be driving for the sake of driving, maybe even swallowing pop-philosophy that life finds value in the height of politeness we give to other drivers, the sheen of one's paint, the comfort of the interior, or perhaps gas mileage.

All the while, no destination, no reason is compelling to keep me in my POS car.

Why not just give up and walk? Hell, why walk? Why don't we just lie down? Maybe some others will lie down with us and we can go nowhere together. Doing nothing sucks unless you've got others who want to do the same thing.

Every person's pet peeve who's given up are those annoying drivers yelling at you to get out of the road - as if where they're going has any consequence anyway. Getting run over sucks, but what's worse is when someone drives up and asks you to get in their car.

Or, worst of all, a bus driver tells you you can't get really anywhere in a car but must board a bus. Apparently, only bus drivers know the route to "the destination." They've even promised they'd teach me how to interpret their little secret, ancient, treasure map that tells the way. Apparently the bus driver wrote it. That doesn't really inspire confidence. But wait, if he's driving, why would I need a map? And why did he offer to teach me cartography? Oh well...

Honestly, a 2-seater Porshe Boxster would be faster,allow me the freedom to go at my own pace, leave me free from nagging bgus-mates telling me when to sit, stand, & speak, allow for pit stops, and give independence in general. I've tried to avoid public transportation at all costs, being fairly successful up until now.

Still, these bus-riding fanatics say I can't follow or even interpret their "map" unless I'm on this bus thing, and even then they require a membership, a portion of my income, daily time with the driver, and some other stuff I didn't pay attention to. Uh, am I the only one who thinks this prescription might be for a disease I don't have (maybe even causing theirs and giving me the same...)? I snidely asked them if they wanted my firstborn, too. They said no, but their bus driver gave his for me. I was sarcastic, they weren't. What the heck is the son of a bus driver gonna do for me?

But, heck, I'm not doing anything anyway, so I might as well let them chauffer me around until I figure out what I want or at least how close I can get to the destination...any destination. Besides, at least gas and insurance are free, and as long as I'm not driving, no more fender benders!

...to be continued