Monday, January 23, 2006

C. D. C. B.

I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river and it made me complete

Nothing stood between the firewall and his right foot except for the loud go pedal, coaxing his conveyance to scream past the numbers at the upper end of the rev meter: 7000, 7250, 7500... The white backlit needles emblazoned against the black backdrop of a speedometer register speeds previously unexplored on this stretch of unpopulated concrete highway. But he paid it no mind -- regardless of the countless moving violations and misdemeanor infractions, his mind was elsewhere. The dull green low pressure sodium lights quickened their pace overhead, illuminating the dark cockpit that struggled to contain his soul -- a soul searching for recompense, for redemption. Instead, all it found was a path borne from the destruction of past failed attempts at relationships -- four in particular -- that echoed the emptiness in his life like the howling shrieks of a lonely spirit soaring over a scorched desert.

Even after all these years, they still sound a hollow thrumming, like the headache from a thousand hangovers; a constant reminder of his inability to succeed at one thing in his life. From all outward appearances, things seemed to be just fine. It's only this one facet of living that haunts him, to this day...that one thing that he would give up everything for -- just for one more moment; one more chance at experiencing that wonderful joy of carpe diem, however fleeting...when all the world melts away except for a brief instantaneous glance, a smile, a laugh, a thought.

I don't know your face no more
Or feel the touch
That I adored
...We might as well be strangers
For all I know of you now

He returns back to reality, removing his heavy foot from the light throttle as he simultaneously comes to the realization that Keane + a glass of wine + a melancholy state of mind does not a happy camper make. Quickly softening the pace and upshifting to top gear, he relaxes the remainder of the trip home, forcing himself to think of more productive thoughts. ...All the while trying with all his might to ignore that loud dark voice whispering in the corner of his mind.

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At 1/23/2006 10:41 AM, Blogger bev said...


could do, could be

At 1/23/2006 6:34 PM, Blogger VirtualErn said...

:) Not quite. I didn't expect anyone to know (or care) what the title meant anyways (let alone this whole post) ...but nice try though!

At 1/23/2006 8:32 PM, Blogger Gary said...

Compact Disk Citizen's Band?

At 1/23/2006 8:44 PM, Blogger Big Sexy said...

Can Donger Climb Back.

At 1/23/2006 9:11 PM, Blogger VirtualErn said...

Ha! Nice try fellas.

By the way Gary, the correct spelling is Compact Disc. :)

At 1/23/2006 10:11 PM, Blogger Big Sexy said...

AAHH I got it Can't Dance Can't Boogie and if you say otherwise you be lyin'.. hahaha ;p


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