Home for me is driving on the road it seems. It's probably only in this time that I have a clear head of things. The air seems lighter compared to outside and in this short time, I could relax. At night, the streetlights calm me as I make my lonely drive home. It's kind of magical to see each light pass me by, like a flicker of an instance that leads me where I ought to go, my house -- where I am supposed to be.

Yet at the back of my mind, I have a small wish that I clasp as firmly as I held on the steering wheel - that is, to drive into a nowhere place. A place other than a place.

I sometimes wish that I will come to a place where the street lights are gone from the path. Then, I won't have to drive towards anywhere but just wander around driving, alone in the dark. There is often peace in the long drive, a peace I couldn't find anywhere else. My eyes don't have to focus on anything and I can just take a deep breath and step harder on the gas. As the speed takes up, I let momentum take over as it shoves me back on my seat... the joy of letting it all go in a thrilling velocity...

I notice that things pass by faster on the road. Street lights, buildings, cars, -people- all seem like a blur as you pass them by. For me, it's kind of easier that way. When things pass you by as fast as they do on the road, they never get a chance to come near you... they don't get a chance to tap at your window, they don't get a chance to wave, they don't get a chance to know you. You don't get to make mistakes, you don't get a chance to be disappointed and you don't get a chance to get hurt. Take one look off the road and you're a dead man. Take one look towards someone outside and you will crash into your demise. Such a simple analogy, really.

But why do the rules say otherwise? They make stoplights to stop you and then you can't help but look outside. And the rules say no man is an island, no person can stand alone. That it takes two sets of wings to fly. It nags on me endlessly. Loneliness, it's not so bad but why does it hurt when it shouldn't. Why is there pain when nothing is there to inflict it? It hurts to be alone, even when you do the things you love to do. I don't know why, it puzzles me.

I guess that's why they put breaks on cars, it keeps you from going too fast. Too fast, that you'll miss everything in life worth looking at, worth touching, worth being. It pays to stop once in a while and it pays to have someone wave at you from outside the window, but for me, I guess it isn't enough to have to do things from inside a window looking out or conversely, to have people outside looking in. Know what I mean?

I'm always searching for something (or someone) which I am sure that I have lost on the way. Call it happiness if you will, but I think happiness just comes with finding that thing I'm missing. And rather than go back to try to find it again, I step on the gas and speed as far away from the past as I could possibly can, with no one to stop me, no one to oppose, no one to be attached to, and for what? Maybe to find what was lost in the road ahead of me, never having to face the past that has already been broken... never to be forgiven for what I've done. That for me, perhaps, is the peace I seek. It may not be the kind of peace described in bibles or movies, but it's my peace.

After all, there are people who seek chaos in search of peace in themselves. I just happen to be one who sees it in a lonely drive home.