Back On The Road

Sometimes one can’t help but succumb to the nostalgia of road time explorations. I’m talking about those On The Road moments, where freedom was the open road to oblivion. Traversing the wilderness of youth, traipsing across the county, life was in the simplicity of existing to capture every rapturous moment. Warping back to those times when a simple steering-wheel nudge was helming the ship towards the next great adventure; where anything and everything was visible on the horizon, and merely being there, breathing in the religion of experience, was a revelation in itself.

Those nostalgia days driving through my mind, seizing control of memories and imbuing them with a clarity and vivacity that entices me evermore to drop life, and take up the mantle of the road. The aching sweetness of blazing through state lines(windows down), blaring the tunes of the day, masquerading like madmen through the infinity of the road that lays dauntless before you. In those pristine moments, perfection was possible, if only we knew it then....if only we knew.

Regardless, stuck in the cement grind of routine and responsibility, we exchange the wings of adventure for the shackles of mundanity. It's in the restlessness of experience that threatens to usurp the stability of normalcy. Ah, if only every second of being were comparable to the wild exuberance of the road, then, alas, every minute detail would be relished with abandon. Yet, we forage on in the hopes of finding ourselves in the desolation once more; with engines thrumming, windshields stained in the bug-splatter, and most importantly, the overwhelming rightness of the act itself.

To the day when I take up the quest once more, singing the tune of seductive asphalt, and see the rearview holding the beautiful prison of my life....receding in the distance.