The Way I Drive
I drive fast.
Not because I’m in a rush and not because I’m late.
Because I want to.
I talk fast. I live fast. I drive fast.
Because I have a death wish?
I’m the safest driver on the road. Why?
Every moment I’m aware of everything around me. I’m not texting, or eating or thinking about going home to watch TV or worrying about the bills. I’m driving.
Some people drive like cattle, just going with the flow; Or slow like a sloth, or cowardly, like mice.
I drive like a shark, tenacious and swift. I charge forward like a cheetah on open ground. I maneuver like a hawk.
Driving on the streets or the freeway may not be a race, but I’m still going to win.
Slow people can complain or blame, but they will only do one thing: try and slow me down.
They’ll try to slow you down too if they can.
I just move into the fast lane and hit the gas.
I drive fast because I like to. It’s more fun to zoom ahead, than to fall behind; to be in control and choose your path rather than let the cars around you tell you where to go and how fast.
When that engine roars and that road rushes by beneath my wheels, I’m alive.
And in case you haven’t figured it out yet. This isn’t just about driving.