PART 1

Page 1
I hate that standard formula of starting out a story by describing in elaborate detail the surrounding scenery - how the leaves on the maple tree rustled this way and that with the push of the stormy wind or how some rare flower was slowly transforming colour with the change of the season coming on - bluntly, it gets you off track before you've even gotten on track. It's become common practice for me to ignore the first few pages of every book I pick up, read them just to read them and to say that I've completely endured the entire contents, held within the covers. It's simply filler, pointless; I mean who ever even remembers seeing those adjectives when the story has passed. An intriging and inticing story can always be unveiled in the first few lines, just get into it already, stop pissing around.
My head is a thinking machine, it doesn't stop, at the moment this was the current idea running through as I peered out the passenger side window of some make and model van my mom was driving, at some view not even close to what those books described. I was in my element zoned out seeing the land pass by without actually caring to see the land, just as long as there was more to come. A linked idea and understanding hit, but before I could verbally express it, I had to change thoughts for a minute and spend that interlude deciding whether I should keep it internal or share my insight with my uninterested but caring mother. Knowing it would have no resonance with her past the point of the words being said, but battling with my understanding that what I had was worth seeing air, I let out "do you know why true musicians don't drive even when they get their licences and start piling up the vehicles, rather they are always being chauffered around?" There is always an urge to break silences, although I often feel a sense of guilt and regret for words spoken immediately following the conversation. That's because it never sounds as it did inside. The blame can squarely be placed on that first silence-broken-pressed conversation I have with anyone. After the initial encounter, future attempts are aimed at getting one back for the last weak attempt to put out something valuable, and rather than impress I seem to falter further, until they just start cutting me off or finding an out.
"because they need that constant comfort and ego serving re-assurance that they're something special and deserve special treatment", my mom hit back. To guess she would have such a strong opinion. It startled me and had me questioning whether there was some background related anger or resentment she had on the topic. Doesn't it give off such a queer feeling when out of nowhere someone you inquire upon shows an outburst of opinion or expression that you never expected they had in them, everyones got personal demons and its these times I believe to have discovered one of theirs. "Well I'd say you've covered 90 percent of em, but no, a true artist remains idle in a vehicle because they relish the opportunity to take it all in and grab what comes to them. On the road is where most musicians get their truly inspirational ideas. All the greats have taken the same position I'm in and soaked it in for all its worth, cause you can't pretend to see the sights holding the wheel. They got to have the ability to be free and have their minds wander. Dylan himself once remarked 'you can have some amazing hallucinogenic experiences doing nothing but looking out your window'". I only say 'Dylan' to my mom anymore, she knows enough of the man and all his myths through me. Silence follows, but comforting from my mom in this situation, as its expected out of her after hurling my hypothesises. So, I continue, "I know I'm nowhere near being anyone now, but mark my word if I ever make it somewhere's, I will never own a vehicle or drive around myself." Does that even make sense! What's the damage anyway, my mom was out of the conversation and on her daily errand-run mind before that came out. Don't we all do as to my last words, use our vast free time to carelessly express how we would react or behave if given a beneficiary situation, choosing morality and good hearted decisions because we know if we continue to aim our time so pointlessly we'll never even have to consider how we will never be given the opportunity, fuck it if we're all hypocrites. Please mom change the subject, before I dwell on this absurdity any longer. Why did I even mention owning a vehicle, what really does it matter, I don't care whether I do or not, yet we're all guilty of pretending to care when we don't, we feel we have to, to show we're complicated and diverse people. In reality, when it comes down to it, everything is simple and our cares even more so, but who wants to expose that we are truly selfish individuals, enter our fake selves. Enter my truly selfish life.