Wanderlust

I made love tonight, with a car. Inside and behind its dashboard, alone on an endless stretch of foresty highway, against a pitchblack star-studded middle of the night, I made sweet sweet love. It's been a long time since I have felt this sort of pleasure, a very long time in fact. Too long. Months, even. I don't think I have driven on a freeway at night in months. Especially not in those hours of the night when you are solely alone smelling warm mountain air blasting through the window slits at you, staring half-gazedly at a sky swarming with shining stars, a chalky milk of galaxy looming above, the lights and your few gauges illuminated below. My dear heavenly God it's the definition of pure pleasure for me, it stokes such a passion inside that in my new stick-driven, perfectly-shaped Kia Sportage I can't help but feel as though I am heavily making love with the her, and with the night sky.

Wanderlust: to lust in wandering. That's the generation I come from. I wouldn't care what to do with anything else in my life so long as I eventually get to taste the warm night air, sans hinges or weights, LA or Placerville or Santa Cruz or Utahr.
So there it is. That is me, that is my generation. Always been.
Delivering pizzas or standing on a stage and looking out at an audience I can still sense the adventure of it all..
come Wanderlust with me