In the south, even the oldest, greyed out, decaying pavement has a mirage like shimmer in the distance. The heat waves bouncing off of the blacktop, like a picturesque, poorly placed lake. Like camels in a desert, we follow the shine in hopes of quenching our thirst.
Drive on, drive on, drive on, the grass is greener on the other side.
Like the non-existent pool between the hills of sands, the lake slips constantly out of our grasp. Our wheels spin faster so as to catch it, yet it seems to stay perfectly at the same distance. The faster you rush forward, the more unfocused you become. The point is no longer the sip of water, but getting there first.
A race that can never end. Only the one at the back of the pack can see that we are all going at the same pace to our own untold destiny.
Drive on, drive on, drive on, to a unique mystery.
Relax your hands on the wheel and lean your head against the rest. Stop looking for the quickest route to the front, and let them pass. Take in the scenery, imagine what you missed in the rush.
Drive on, drive on, drive on, but take a turn.
Crawl through winding country roads to remind yourself that breaks exist for a reason. Swerve slowly through the mountains on an unknown road with no other car in sight. You may find that the mirage disappears. You may even realize that you have finally entered that shiny lake of life.