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Oh I want to drive. Seems a lot of people have been describing snippets of driving experiences in their journals or in email and reading about it just makes me miss that favorite pastime of mine. Right now I’m feeling like I need it too. It has always been a form of therapy for me to crawl into the driver’s seat, put on my favorite music, and just let the car go. Especially at night, when the darkness surrounds me and I imagine it’s what it would feel like to propel through space all alone, the dim lights casting a futuristic glow on my face. And I like that feeling of being alone then, away from the visual and the auditory of the conscious world, completely immersed in what only my mind conjures, yet still engaged in the kinetics of driving. It is one of the biggest sacrifices I’ve made in the last year and a half; it has been among the most difficult to endure. Lately I’ve been savoring each moment in a car. Usually I’m in a cab, but just recently I’ve been able to snag rides with people who have their own cars and who actually drive them. It feels good to be dwarfed by buses and to sit alongside similar metal boxes in snarled traffic. Only, I just wish to take it a step further and let me be the one to steer. I miss the rainy nights in the car when the future view is even more obscure and more skill is required for the activity. It feels cozy, like the car is a womb we’ve constructed just for our adult liking. I love sitting in the car in a heavy rain. To me, it is like the comfortable life I left behind in America. I miss it. I want to have it again.
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