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Brazilian Petrol

So I travel, faster, moving past the queasy memories, racing towards better destinations. I snap photographs, one handed out the dirty windows.

23 Jan 2007

Everything is an object, a cartoon ghost. Scenery changes like channels, flicking past with faint boredom. Road signs become blurry, left behind, just makers on the discarded map.

This speed is addictive, the ride exhilarating. Faster, everything begins to pump with an intoxicating rhythm. The only direction is forward, to anywhere.

Driven by need, my hunger is for fuel to sustain this motion, to maintain this escape. I pull into to a gas station; I have come to a nervous stand still.

Here, stationary, thoughts begin to catch me. Wholesome wishes, keening desires, feverish ideas start to crawl over me. Being clean, being free, stopping this foolish game.

My mind starts to embrace this paradox. This is a conflict of ruin. Time evaporates into a quantum of choice. Reality slowly erode the decision of escape, where will this end? Could it be now?

Walking towards me comes a suave man, a clean-cut apparition of gas station guy. A perfectly styled attendant serving on the greasy stained concrete. Why isn't he smoking a warning label? Is it almost high noon?

He greets me in broken Brazilian English. Polite and poised as I flip the cap, he pulls out his big silver gun and asks me how much I want.

"Fill me up" is all I can say.

My mental hands fumble for the matches. I want to burn everything, ignite this moment with a searing finale. I want to be the center of a brilliant nova.

I walk to pay as this rapture immerses me. Must I be a slave to this endless running, must I be servant to this addiction of pace. This could be my final destination, my resting ground. I could become beautiful in an explosion, my fastest moment yet.

Somehow I hold together the meaning of it all, the loose change and a paper receipt. I have no energy for this dream, no patience for this hope.

The engine guns, the opportunity is gone.

I travel, faster, leaving behind foolish hopes, revolutionary dreams.