I’m on Twentieth Street. The street is becoming narrow, into a One Way Only. I can see a shift ahead, but I don’t know where it leads. It’s dark over there, and there are no signs that can help guide me. Another piece of land to conquer and figure out for myself. It’s OK! I’m eager and anxious. I feed off of the unknown. I’m not lost, not at all. If anything, I’m leading the way. I can’t see them through the dust in the rearview mirror, but I know they’re there. Twentieth Street is broad. I’m discovering new districts without any type map. My internal GPS system is leading me the right way, so I think. My journey is more than picturesque, there aren’t enough words to describe it. It’s magical. Every part of Twentieth Street has been good: Circus 22, the good of 25th Pointe, 27th & 28th Square, Grove Two3, Section24, 26th Pass. Twentieth Street has been full of nothing but opportunities, and most of them I’ve taken, and it’s all because I don’t like to stay in my jurisdiction. That small, little, dead end cul de sac I once called home. I know I still have a way to go. I’ll admit, I’ve had bumps in the road, and on occasion flat tires, even with no roadside service! Fucken potholes. 21st Quarter being the area with the most. Some of my best moments were in traffic on the way here, but the voyage must go on. Street lights change, and traffic fluctuates. The road wasn’t paved out all the time. I’ve had to dodge idiot drivers and buses.
If it weren’t for detours, I wouldn’t be the experienced driver I am today. I can see the sun setting. My stunner shades are no longer needed. The more I travel, the more I evolve into the knightrider. Twentieth Street. What a road. Full of twists and turns. I love it still though. Lots of stupid pedestrians walking the opposite direction have pissed me off, but I don’t let them get to me. I’m in a car. I’m going faster, and I’ll get to my destination sooner to enjoy more leisure. I’ve seen some hitchhikers, but I picked up none of them. OK, I’m lying, I picked them all up, but it was nothing but a quick lift to the next intersection. None of them have been worthy to take on as actual passengers. I’m a solo driver, and I’m happy about it. I can’t imagine it another way. No one likes a nagging backseat driver, or someone who messes up your flow and changes your favourite song in the middle of it, or asks to make another pit stop for a bathroom break. I hate wasting time. As long as I have my IPod I am OK. I’m seeing how Twentieth Street goes on for one more block. It looks like a long one that ascends uphill a little. The real estate looks far more expensive, and mother nature richer. From a distance, I can see some pedestrians walking the right way. I’m excited. I think I’m headed in the right direction! Lucky me, they’re all green lights. I shift the gears to control my speed to how fast I want to go. It’s all in my control. I am the driver. I call the shots. I look at my tank. It’s more than half full, it’s still nearly full. I should consider getting a hybrid to further my route without any inconveniences, avoid all the unnecessary pit stops, especially with the drive I have.
As I continue my voyage, I realize no matter what part of Twentieth Street I stay on and enjoy, or bear, I’m still a vagabond. The road and show goes on; age ain’t nothing but a number. City or country, it doesn’t matter, as long as I can learn what I don’t already know. Life is one big journey, and I am ready to experience anything and everything. Oh, here’s my favourite song, time to turn it up, and since it’s Muse’s “Time is Running Out”, I guess I have no choice but to push the gas pedal.