She lay in bed for what seemed like an eternity. Her mind was a thousand miles away as she drags her butt out and stares out by her bedroom window, farther than the farthest galaxy that Doctor Who has travelled… Her mind drifts as she stares on, with nothing to do but think about her life in a state of quarantine and so much duress. She wards off the dust and listens to lines from a song from childhood.
“You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere”
Maybe we can get somewhere. Maybe we can make a deal. A ticket to anywhere. It just no longer mattered. Everything no longer mattered as much as it had. Suddenly, everything seems too futile or miniscule to life a finger. She wants a ticket, indeed. But where to, she does not seem to know. It’s all too dark and dreary from where she stands. Wobbly-kneed and filled with pustules, you will find heavy clouds nesting in her long hair, now stringy as spaghetti and unkempt for days.
“Any place is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we’ll make something
Me myself I got nothing to prove”
There is no more any lower level at the bottom of the pit of vipers she has found herself in. She realized that she was spinning wildly without control for quite a while, only to suddenly crash to the bottom of this pit full of venom and spite. Eventually, when all the venom has done stinging her skin, she finds that there is no more, just nothingness. Just nothingness and herself.
In this nothingness, she found strength to say no and start again from this bottom, this scary bottom where she sees nothing about the future and she does not have the fast pace of spinning aimlessly to shield her from the pain of having nothing and of being nothing and of being reduced to nothing.
“Managed to save just a little bit of money
Won’t have to drive too far
Just ‘cross the border and into the city
You and I can both get jobs
And finally see what it means to be living”
She wanted many things and she worked hard for them. But they seldom pan out. In fact, her whole life felt like a trajectory of a trial rocket in space. There are numerous calculations and planning sessions and all those things they call to make a good endeavour. But it will have a huge margin of error and it can fall crashing down anywhere from the North Pole to Timbuktu.
She aimed for the moon last month, and well, the toothpick rocket kind of ended hitting cow dung in a far flung farm, still very much on earth and in its most ungraceful bowels, if I may add.
She dared dream of new possibilities and extend herself. She takes risks. She puts herself out there. She dares make unconventional choices. And these unconventional things… both led to her doing and undoing.
“So remember when we were driving driving in your car… Speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped ’round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
I had a feeling I could be someone,
She struggled to grasp at threads of her life, thinking of those moments where she belonged, where she felt like she was on top of the world. She was nowhere on top of the world as she tried to grasp those moments from her fleeting memories. But she knew that even when she has a hard time recalling those good times, it is there underneath, tucked away in an untouchable place in her soul for retrieval once she is done and over with this gruelling and empty phase of her drive of life.
“I know things will get better
You’ll find work and I’ll get promoted…”
She reels from the unemployment rates in her country and thinks that promotion is realistically more of having a roof above her head, good health, being surrounded by the people who means the world to her, and doing what she loves at a pace that is just right.
In a third world country, promotion is not really getting a higher paycheck. She acknowledges her lot in life and thinks that she’d be lucky to find an average-paying job where she is being treated as a human being and not as an object or machine that can be turned on 24/7.
She struggles with the concept of value, and how twisted the world ascribes such value to people in merciless ways. She seeks a promotion in the form of carving her own path, because the previous paths lined up before her are all horribly unsuitable for what she dreams of for her life. But she does not know where to start, and she needs to continue putting food on the table than paint a picture of herself as a struggling artist.
“You got a fast car
I got a job that pays all our bills…
I got no plans I ain’t going nowhere
So take your fast car and keep on driving”
So she does the one thing that her mom will not approve of but her soul needs. She departs and she soldiers on. She assesses who she is from the dark and bottomless pit. She decides to change her life.
She decides to draw tiny circles on a blank canvas when the world expects her to paint a Picasso, and judges it as GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER, for this space and this time of her life.
She affords herself the RESPECT that other people denied her. She learns to love herself in the dark nothingness. And she keeps driving upward until she finds the light again.
She acknowledges all the things that happened and realized that she was, in fact, VERY HUMAN for feeling these fast car feelings.
“You got a fast car
Is it fast enough so you can fly away?
You gotta make a decision
Leave tonight or live and die this way”
She finally DECIDES. She chooses to stop climbing in the usual way as she has done, for insanity involves doing the same thing over and over again and expecting the same results.
She decides to fly in her fast car of life. And she no longer apologizes for the long-overdue decision she has made.
She knows that even when the rest of the world thinks that she is just another fast car, her soul is flying inside and there are things that make her VALUABLE enough to nurture her fast car feelings.