I was driving my mother entirely mad, and I didn’t know how to stop it. She would have told me to go out and get a real job, one that would keep me above the poverty level and not keep me running back to her every time something happened that toppled my precariously-balanced life, but I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t betray myself that way. So I drove her right off a cliff – the cliffs of insanity.
I just started and it came as a kind of a thrill. My sister hates it my mom is afraid of it and my dad? Well, he… he doesn’t like the fact that I’m old enough to drive. It’s nothing compared to motorcycling, but it’s enough. The seat has to be raised to suit my short stature, and I’m glad I can see above the steering wheel.
I’ve always feared the concept of driving. It just seems like something that causes so much destruction… Maybe that’s because my sister is 19 and still a learner driver but, I don’t know.
I can go get my learners, I just can’t be bothered. I don’t want to kill anyone. Legitimately that’s my fear.
A world within a world within a world… the planet driving onward through its relentless cycle, fluctuations in climate and inhabitants adding colour and variety to its tireless voyage, much like a scaletrix car, whizzing around and around the same circuit; funnily enough, Jed’s vintage Pontiac Firebird had inspired countless Scaletrix models, and now, as he rumbled along in the driving rain, the very fire that drove him, much like the internal combustion engine under the hood, pulled him into an uncertain destiny, driven half insane by what might come at journey’s end.
I hate driving. I only say that because I can’t. Also, it’s very awkward to drive with your mother when you’re 18 and home from college. And you’ve just had sex. And your mother is conservative and doesn’t approve.
Silence.
It’s just another Friday night at my house…. Actually…. A Friday night in my mother’s car.
She only had a driving permit. Her friend had a license, but she wasn’t old enough to make it legal. They both knew they were doing something wrong. They were having fun, they didn’t care. She drove illegally through the back roads, picking up more and more speed, becoming more and more dangerous. The radio was blaring out the windows and they were singing at the top of their lungs. Not a care in the world. At the top of the hill, going 90+ miles an hour, a motorcycle appeared, their hearts stopped. The breaks did their job. No one was hurt, they didn’t crash. They learned a lesson they’ll never forget that day.
Driving through the mountain tops. The morning mist floods the valleys and licks the peaks. The air is perfectly comfortable. Almost untouched by man and so very comforting.
Driving lessons makes me think of Rupert Grint.
I like driving. Quite a bit, actually.
It calms me down.
I can drive for hours without realizing it.
Listening to David Bowie with the windows down, I feel like my worries and cares just fly out the window, because at that moment, the only things that matter are the road and my car.
he grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. he needs to run. run away like the coward he was. he needs out of this suffocating town. he packs his bags, everything in a single rucksack, shoves it in the trunk and starts driving. he was finally leaving. he’s escaping.
driving flying by the world around me, the hum of the road, the comfort of the passenger seat. i sit still and listen. i sit still and think. pavement, i am mesmerized by paint as it flies by in a lull…
Driving through the desert makes things seem so much more serene. Despite the chaos. Despite the bombs and the blood and the bullets, there’s peace and hope when I’m hidden by half an inch of glass. The gunner in the car doesn’t share my zen emotions, and he lets loose a new wave of rage. Dust kicks up and the desert goes.
The cool air poking me. The sun, setting ever so slowly in the distance, creating a bright and yet ever-so dim crimson setting. The wind slapping against my face, reminding me I’m alive. This is what I live for. Why do they always think I enjoy walking. The car, the car! I keep telling you! – Memoirs of a poetic Husky pup.
i went driving last night. windows down wind blasting not blowing and the music fought the sounds in my ears and the air was warm and muggy and i smiled..
Often time I drive in a hurry. I always feel like I need to get from point A to point B in a ridiculously little amount of time. I’m always angry at those who drive slow, who swerve, and just can’t drive at all. I feel that I need to let go of this anger and just relax. For the safety of other and the safety of myself.
When I feel like I can’t do anything anymore, like the universe is just pushing down on every part of my mind, I just get in my old Jeep and drive. I’ll drive on the highway for miles, hours. It takes away the clouds in my mind. I never want it to end. But then the road gets hazy and I start to head back, crawling into bed as the sun begins to rise.
Driving down an empty strip of rural highway. Breeze through the windows. Music on the radio. Looking up it feels like every star in the universe is visible and suddenly there’s no other place I’d rather be.
Silence. Looking at the trees going by. Quiet humming of a song that is playing in the back of your mind. No need to do anything but drive. Where are you going? Where will you rest? Will you ever stop?
with windows down and the wind in her hair
the world passes her by in a blur
landscapes change
the earth slips away
the fresh air in her lungs reminds her she’s alive
God bless
is the dumbest thing on this planet. i hate doing it and i never want to do it again. driving sucks ass. especially driving with my mom. she yells at me for no reason. dude, im a new driver. of course i will suck at driving. just saying. so dont let me drive on the roads if youre too scared.
I was driving down the road when I saw a man in a green hat and a green coat walk across the street and for some reason, I thought he probably wasn’t human. But I didn’t care at the moment because I was too busy driving.
Driving around everywhere always brings this kind of feeling of hope for me. I know I’m heading somewhere and I realize that as I am driving the places where I can end up are endless. The calming feeling I get as I see my surroundings drifting past me as I accelerate through them. Knowing the destination of where a descended, but having little clue as to where I will continue going to.
One thing that I definitely missed after getting a DUI. Don’t drink and drive people. After driving every day for years and then not being able to sucked. Now I’m back on the road and I will never make that mistake again.
As I drive along the bending road my thoughts drift to you.
What are you doing?
Who are you with?
Am I on your mind?
Alas, I know that your thoughts never drift to me.
My face.
My laugh.
My kisses.
Our love is gone with the last bend in the road .
me round the bend, up the wall, to my wits’ end
don’t you dare tell me it’s all in my head, that I choose to be a victim
time for me to take off the seatbelt and shove you off the wheel
Driving.
Just driving.
Not really going anywhere. Without destination, you could say.
Ever done that? Just… driven? Anywhere, everywhere? To just get away from everything and and hope that maybe.. just maybe… if you drive far enough, your problems will be left behind? That just maybe, you’d reach the stars and feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again…
i hate driving stick shift because i always stall out. but at the same time i do like driving because i’m alone and can think and listen to good music. music is really important to me because it is a form of self expression and allows me to be unique. I wish that I could go to more concerts.
all i could think about was getting away from here. i didnt care about anyone or what i would leave behind. i hoped they wouldn’t care either. im gone. im ready. i dont need anyone to tell me anything.
thinking. listening to music. reminiscing. getting sleepy. i hate the act of driving, but i guess it’s not all that bad. i think i’m just scared of getting into an accident. or looking like a bad driver. i’m usually a really good driver when i’m by myself. i hate paying for gas. i like my small car. LA traffic sucks. any traffic sucks.
i dont know how to drive but im pretty sure its the best thing in the world. you can be free. alone. you can sing, you can yell, its a great get away from everyone else, drive when you’re mad or sad or happy or in love. just drive. any where at anytime. just drive.
driving past signs on the road, not knowing where i’m going next was a sigh of relief. a break away from the constant direction of my life. just driving for the sake of driving was a welcomed surprise. a welcomed change that I needed to survive this suburban jungle.
open road thinking about nothing somewtimes gets me into the zone and lets my mind drift off into that place where we all find comfort in being human and stilll be able to navigate.
I love to go driving whenever I get the chance. Since I don’t have my car anymore, I find myself missing the wind blowing through my hair and going wherever my heart desires. It’s a since of freedom no one can truly explain until they are behind the wheel and ready to go.
An escape from the everyday life, an easy way to leave. For people with wanderlust, such as me, an essential factor to escaping the boring drag of everyday life.
I like driving most when I’m going to Point White Dock. I like driving with the windows open, music blasting, late August warmth still on the pavement, and only at night, with the headlights there to guide me. I’ll sit on the end of the dock, my perfect thinking place. A place to recollect myself. No one can touch me there.
Driving is fun. Ooh, rain drives, too.. Driving rain, sleet, snow… it’s not fun to drive IN, but when it drives, it’s fun. Does that make any sense?
Driving
Is
oops, I can’t even to an accrostic!! And I can’t even spell it right!
Driving is fun.
I was driving my mother entirely mad, and I didn’t know how to stop it. She would have told me to go out and get a real job, one that would keep me above the poverty level and not keep me running back to her every time something happened that toppled my precariously-balanced life, but I couldn’t do that, I couldn’t betray myself that way. So I drove her right off a cliff – the cliffs of insanity.
i like to drive to the texas. it is a very long drive and i get to read a lot of books. although i dont watch any tv for 13 hours, i find it relaxing.
I just started and it came as a kind of a thrill. My sister hates it my mom is afraid of it and my dad? Well, he… he doesn’t like the fact that I’m old enough to drive. It’s nothing compared to motorcycling, but it’s enough. The seat has to be raised to suit my short stature, and I’m glad I can see above the steering wheel.
I’ve always feared the concept of driving. It just seems like something that causes so much destruction… Maybe that’s because my sister is 19 and still a learner driver but, I don’t know.
I can go get my learners, I just can’t be bothered. I don’t want to kill anyone. Legitimately that’s my fear.
A world within a world within a world… the planet driving onward through its relentless cycle, fluctuations in climate and inhabitants adding colour and variety to its tireless voyage, much like a scaletrix car, whizzing around and around the same circuit; funnily enough, Jed’s vintage Pontiac Firebird had inspired countless Scaletrix models, and now, as he rumbled along in the driving rain, the very fire that drove him, much like the internal combustion engine under the hood, pulled him into an uncertain destiny, driven half insane by what might come at journey’s end.
I hate driving. I only say that because I can’t. Also, it’s very awkward to drive with your mother when you’re 18 and home from college. And you’ve just had sex. And your mother is conservative and doesn’t approve.
Silence.
It’s just another Friday night at my house…. Actually…. A Friday night in my mother’s car.
She only had a driving permit. Her friend had a license, but she wasn’t old enough to make it legal. They both knew they were doing something wrong. They were having fun, they didn’t care. She drove illegally through the back roads, picking up more and more speed, becoming more and more dangerous. The radio was blaring out the windows and they were singing at the top of their lungs. Not a care in the world. At the top of the hill, going 90+ miles an hour, a motorcycle appeared, their hearts stopped. The breaks did their job. No one was hurt, they didn’t crash. They learned a lesson they’ll never forget that day.
Through lanes, leaves smashing against the glass, fast, out of control and free
Driving through the mountain tops. The morning mist floods the valleys and licks the peaks. The air is perfectly comfortable. Almost untouched by man and so very comforting.
Driving lessons makes me think of Rupert Grint.
I like driving. Quite a bit, actually.
It calms me down.
I can drive for hours without realizing it.
Listening to David Bowie with the windows down, I feel like my worries and cares just fly out the window, because at that moment, the only things that matter are the road and my car.
it’s a long way to go.
he grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. he needs to run. run away like the coward he was. he needs out of this suffocating town. he packs his bags, everything in a single rucksack, shoves it in the trunk and starts driving. he was finally leaving. he’s escaping.
driving flying by the world around me, the hum of the road, the comfort of the passenger seat. i sit still and listen. i sit still and think. pavement, i am mesmerized by paint as it flies by in a lull…
Driving through the desert makes things seem so much more serene. Despite the chaos. Despite the bombs and the blood and the bullets, there’s peace and hope when I’m hidden by half an inch of glass. The gunner in the car doesn’t share my zen emotions, and he lets loose a new wave of rage. Dust kicks up and the desert goes.
The cool air poking me. The sun, setting ever so slowly in the distance, creating a bright and yet ever-so dim crimson setting. The wind slapping against my face, reminding me I’m alive. This is what I live for. Why do they always think I enjoy walking. The car, the car! I keep telling you! – Memoirs of a poetic Husky pup.
i went driving last night. windows down wind blasting not blowing and the music fought the sounds in my ears and the air was warm and muggy and i smiled..
Often time I drive in a hurry. I always feel like I need to get from point A to point B in a ridiculously little amount of time. I’m always angry at those who drive slow, who swerve, and just can’t drive at all. I feel that I need to let go of this anger and just relax. For the safety of other and the safety of myself.
When I feel like I can’t do anything anymore, like the universe is just pushing down on every part of my mind, I just get in my old Jeep and drive. I’ll drive on the highway for miles, hours. It takes away the clouds in my mind. I never want it to end. But then the road gets hazy and I start to head back, crawling into bed as the sun begins to rise.
Driving down an empty strip of rural highway. Breeze through the windows. Music on the radio. Looking up it feels like every star in the universe is visible and suddenly there’s no other place I’d rather be.
Silence. Looking at the trees going by. Quiet humming of a song that is playing in the back of your mind. No need to do anything but drive. Where are you going? Where will you rest? Will you ever stop?
with windows down and the wind in her hair
the world passes her by in a blur
landscapes change
the earth slips away
the fresh air in her lungs reminds her she’s alive
God bless
I am going to get a new car. Yes this is true. Then I am going to drive the new car. hmmmm. Yes. Ok, bbye.
is the dumbest thing on this planet. i hate doing it and i never want to do it again. driving sucks ass. especially driving with my mom. she yells at me for no reason. dude, im a new driver. of course i will suck at driving. just saying. so dont let me drive on the roads if youre too scared.
I was driving down the road when I saw a man in a green hat and a green coat walk across the street and for some reason, I thought he probably wasn’t human. But I didn’t care at the moment because I was too busy driving.
Driving around everywhere always brings this kind of feeling of hope for me. I know I’m heading somewhere and I realize that as I am driving the places where I can end up are endless. The calming feeling I get as I see my surroundings drifting past me as I accelerate through them. Knowing the destination of where a descended, but having little clue as to where I will continue going to.
One thing that I definitely missed after getting a DUI. Don’t drink and drive people. After driving every day for years and then not being able to sucked. Now I’m back on the road and I will never make that mistake again.
As I drive along the bending road my thoughts drift to you.
What are you doing?
Who are you with?
Am I on your mind?
Alas, I know that your thoughts never drift to me.
My face.
My laugh.
My kisses.
Our love is gone with the last bend in the road .
me round the bend, up the wall, to my wits’ end
don’t you dare tell me it’s all in my head, that I choose to be a victim
time for me to take off the seatbelt and shove you off the wheel
Driving.
Just driving.
Not really going anywhere. Without destination, you could say.
Ever done that? Just… driven? Anywhere, everywhere? To just get away from everything and and hope that maybe.. just maybe… if you drive far enough, your problems will be left behind? That just maybe, you’d reach the stars and feel like you’ve fallen in love all over again…
i hate driving stick shift because i always stall out. but at the same time i do like driving because i’m alone and can think and listen to good music. music is really important to me because it is a form of self expression and allows me to be unique. I wish that I could go to more concerts.
all i could think about was getting away from here. i didnt care about anyone or what i would leave behind. i hoped they wouldn’t care either. im gone. im ready. i dont need anyone to tell me anything.
thinking. listening to music. reminiscing. getting sleepy. i hate the act of driving, but i guess it’s not all that bad. i think i’m just scared of getting into an accident. or looking like a bad driver. i’m usually a really good driver when i’m by myself. i hate paying for gas. i like my small car. LA traffic sucks. any traffic sucks.
i dont know how to drive but im pretty sure its the best thing in the world. you can be free. alone. you can sing, you can yell, its a great get away from everyone else, drive when you’re mad or sad or happy or in love. just drive. any where at anytime. just drive.
driving past signs on the road, not knowing where i’m going next was a sigh of relief. a break away from the constant direction of my life. just driving for the sake of driving was a welcomed surprise. a welcomed change that I needed to survive this suburban jungle.
open road thinking about nothing somewtimes gets me into the zone and lets my mind drift off into that place where we all find comfort in being human and stilll be able to navigate.
I love to go driving whenever I get the chance. Since I don’t have my car anymore, I find myself missing the wind blowing through my hair and going wherever my heart desires. It’s a since of freedom no one can truly explain until they are behind the wheel and ready to go.
He remembers driving it home, all the way up to the hilt. The man freezes, his mouth opens and he makes a strangled sound.
An escape from the everyday life, an easy way to leave. For people with wanderlust, such as me, an essential factor to escaping the boring drag of everyday life.
I like driving most when I’m going to Point White Dock. I like driving with the windows open, music blasting, late August warmth still on the pavement, and only at night, with the headlights there to guide me. I’ll sit on the end of the dock, my perfect thinking place. A place to recollect myself. No one can touch me there.
It’s driving me up the wall. And then back down again so fast, so hard, that I crash – slam! bam! – into the tile. Over and over again.
Ouch. No wonder I’m so sore . . .