Do you know that feeling when you just want to run? You want to run as fast as you can and never stop again? When you feel like you have hornets under your bum, like you’re inside a beehive, sitting on needles, with quicksilver in your blood? Those days when you are going through the evening traffic and everything is just so slow around you it almost drives you crazy. At every red light you feel like you want to take a big leap and jump over everyone, to pass them, surpass them, leave everything behind. Or maybe just stand very close to the white stop line, with barely contained energy, letting your engine roar deep and dark, and to then take off at the flash of green, leaving the sport car next to you in your wake, pale and panting.
Those days when everything around you appears to be happening in slow motion while you just want to whizz through at the speed of light. Those days when you want to turn the music to maximum volume so that the beats of Mother Mother, Metric, Imagine Dragons or Santigold shake your subwoofer to its core. Those days when all you can think of is acceleration, acceleration until your speed is so high that your material can’t withstand the drag anymore, and you slowly start falling into pieces. Acceleration until first you’re side mirrors come off, then your left bumper (the right one is already gone anyways), then your roof takes off including the mattress beneath it, the tent canopy briefly sailing in the wind before it crashes into the side ditch of the road.
On some days everything in me wants speed. You might say that as an old VW van I am not really a car made for speed. And maybe it’s good that I am not. Otherwise I might really take off like this and race through the world. Maybe it’s good that I have physical limitations, that I actually start wheezing as soon as I get to a hill, and that in real life I can really only enjoy speed when it goes downhill, as at every other tilt of the surface I turn too hot too quickly. But what can a car do against its physical limitations? Alas, not much, really. Someone could do some pimping here and there. But with a guy like me there is not that much to be gained. So for my part I have to keep my speed dreams within the imaginary world. And I have to find other ways of dealing with discontent and restlessness. I am just physically not capable of racing through life.
You humans instead, when you are infected by this speed craving, you can actually start running and training and improving yourselves. There is much less to hold you back, and nothing really to stop you from taking life at high speed. Whether for the good or the worse, you must judge for yourselves.
A beautiful song (in German) that captures it all: Tempomat, by Dota und die Stadtpiraten