Donut holes and dreams

“With ten miles behind me and ten thousand more to go”

The road can teach you valuable lessons, such as learning the interstate system and how to get awesome cb radio handles. The road can also be your best friend or worst enemy. Sometimes our best friends end up being our worst enemies, but more on that another day.

As I found myself in the one series going for a much needed therapeutic sunset cruise, it soon became apparent that with all the miles I had driven I hadn’t gone far enough. The therapeutic nature of my ride transforms into a mind numbing cry fest followed by bouts of singing at the top of your lungs.

The beauty of the therapeutic drive is that you are at the mercies of wherever your mind takes you. It doesn’t always have to be scenic, it doesn’t always have to have an end point, it just happens. Instead of counting the miles until you get to your destination your applauding yourself for the miles you’ve accumulated.

I think I accumulated whatever 3/4 of a tank of gas in the one series. It was peaceful, the open interstate, not even truckers were out. It was a pseudo apocalypse like setting. 85 southbound was vacant. The only soul that I encountered was the sweet lady at the truck stop I bought the donut holes from. For some reason she was laughing at the concept that I was buying donut holes and nothing else. Gee lady, get a life.

Then I realized, all the donut holes in the world could never fill the void that I have in my life at this very moment. I’m Curled up in the front seat watching the sunrise through grey skies and think back to the sunset from the night prior. I can’t remember it, but then again I know it happened. Much like many things in life, you know they happen and eventually you start taking them for granted.

I miss all the things I used to have, but drinking isn’t one of them. I’d rather be a homeless sober bum than living the highlife saturated with cunning, baffling booze. I would give up the sunsets forever to remove the toxic buildup of memories up has caused not only myself but my loved ones. As I work through my twelve steps I realize the massive number of people I hurt, but plead for forgiveness. I’d fall on my knees in a moment to sob at the feet of all those that I’ve hurt.

As I drove the empty interstate last night, looking for my last glimmer of reason, it came upon me. Maybe the roads are empty because everyone else is Curled up in a nice warm bed. Respectfully noted, that’s where I headed. To my dismay there was no room at the Inn. The door was locked and the beds were all full. Tail between my legs and heart in my throat I got back into the one series and Curled up. This is it, this is my bed and I will very happily lay in it and learn from it.

This morning, however, those donut holes don’t look any more appetizing.
All you can do is fall back on what you know, for me is music. James Taylor serenaded me many a times with this tune, and now I finally understand it.

“There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
A song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep 
But singing works just fine for me”

I cannot sleep and I’m not planning on visiting the sky, so I reckon I’ll just sing.

Loudly.

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