Fast cars chasing the nights trying to keep the daylight from entering into this world. The world that consists of (1) fast people with slippery souls; (2) dangerous drinks and hypnotic music; (3) shallow intentions with lasting regrets. These nights we cherish, track down, obsess over, stalk, hunt, would do anything for. We long for these nights. We stalk the night with fast machines that we alone conduct, eventually being responsible for the outcome of what, in irony, came too fast for us as well. Whilst speeding, speeding away and away and away we never stop to think daylight may not be our adversary, rather, it is our resistance to daylight that qualifies for a proper adversary, and if we go deep enough, we find that it is not just the resistance but why we resist. We harvest our souls in activities that only a thing like Night would approve. Fast cars become our saviour and we do anything to restrain from leaving Night’s presence, or, from it leaving our presence. Anything, including speed speed speed away into an infinitesimal abyss of hope and regret clenching to each other like Ying and Yang.
Recently, thanks to the kindness of tumblr and those I follow (the
many I follow), I have become increasingly interested in cars and not just cars as a general category, but sports cars, sleek cars, sports sedan cars, European cars, whichever description fits best to the particular image, so long if it (1) has two doors and (2) looks like it belongs in some movie cruising [dangerously] along a lane that curls itself along a rock formation that is perched in the middle of a cliff where unforgiving waters wash all memories away.
The general idea that we grow up with is boys play with cars because cars are for boys. I, am going to be a salmon, and swim against this because I am head over heels in love with cars; it gets better (or worse, depending on how you view my recent enlightenment) –– I am not only in love with the look of cars from the outside but the complete aesthetic of how cars perform, horsepower, speed, convertible? If yes, hardtop or cloth top? See, the whole package is what sold me. My newfound love could also come from this idea I have in my head of myself driving along the described pathway above, therefore, it would be the idea I am in love with, non?
Maybe I am in love with simply the idea of driving one of these beautiful machines, and if so, for now I will relish in it.
As I see an image of one of these beauties, immediately I picture myself driving in Nice, Fr. along a quite ubiquitous French Mediterranean road just as the sun is beginning to retreat. The moment where it’s still daylight yet lights for boutiques and restaurants have already decided to light it up. The sky is the perfect combination of an orange-pink (Bittersweet according to Wikipedia–ha!) with random strokes of lavender blended in. It’s the moment everyone looks up at second intervals and decide for themselves that there is no possible explanation for the colours they have just experienced and there is no known feeling other than the feeling those colours alone created and claim.
A warm rush possess my body to immediately archive the image of the car somehow. I must keep it forever, to look upon it, to use it for inspiration, to look forward to driving a car like so one day.
*curerntly listening to “Somalia” by K’Naan