I can’t turn my head sideways without feeling like I am going to lose my balance.
This morning, I went down to the garage, turned on my car and just sat there. I like sitting in my car. I love being in my car. She’s my property, my own spot, my lair, my quiet place. I don’t know if other people feel this way about their cars, but I do. I like to roll up all the windows, isolate myself and listen to the sound of her engine running. Her.
I wonder what the main motive is behind most acts of betrayal. Is it money? Love? Self-preservation? Self-preservation. Self-realization? Perhaps it is the product of conflicting sets of principles?
I ended up taking the bus.