I crack the window and let the cool air prickle my perspiring skin. The weather is a blessing, unusually pleasant for this time of year. Of course, one never can tell what the weather will do here. The weather's unpredictability is matched only by its utterly encompassing grandeur.
Soon, I forget where I was headed, but the destination was never of any consequence. Call me a lead foot, but I surge forward towards a breath of fresh air. I want to breathe in a place I have never inhaled before, and exhale everything already known. I don't care for the old saying that "knowledge is power". Surely it is correct to some degree, but I find new knowledge is far more precious than knowledge cluttered by disuse and irrelevance. The new knowledge of the sort that turns the mind into knots only the most experienced boy scout (or the experienced and politically correct girl scout) could possibly untie.
Warmth seeps into my pores. I've been deprived of sunlight in these cold, gray months: a blazing cure to my thoughts dredged with snow. I roll down the windows now, hoping to unleash as much of this wondrous day upon my countenance as possible. I no longer see the road, but there is no danger.
I soon notice that I have been singing all this time, at a volume beyond my knowledge. Embarrassment should be paramount, but in this particular flight care passes as swiftly as the wind through my open window. The tune changes and flits in and out like epileptic butterflies, and I enjoy it the more. Alone in my car, even in busy traffic with eyes staring all around, I realize only myself. This moment is the only real moment. All others are false. Fake moments, filled with facades, pretences, put-ons, and never-ending games of pretend.
My destination finds me. My imaginary life beckons me to arrive. So here I am. Time to return to expectation.
3/26/07
