Absence of the presence

I started driving again, and it just feels awkward with the clutch and shift stick thing. More when your mini well known car has finally dropped it's P red sticker after two years under probation.


I'm hardly into cars already. I still admire them, but that's just it. The hopes of owning one in future for self satisfaction of success capability or for plain free viewing on the highway for others to be envy off, it all has fade away. I always understand that materialistic stuff was not important but car was somehow an exception because the adrenaline in a much admirable vehicle is exhilarating and that, became a pipe idea when a whole new life long lesson story slapped me on the face last year.


I sneaked into the deepest of deepest pit hole I could possibly find to get the whole, mostly accidentally really. Movies are visuals made from mental imagination to make the hearts of viewer feel like the intended emotions it should give, and an applaud or perhaps a standing ovation is acted out afterwards when it is succeeded, feeling the personas' inner core character, so real.

What happens then when it is indeed real? 

How frighteningly few are the persons whose death would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty.

; Eric Hoffer