I have driven a thousand miles; driven through the mountains and the rains; driven through the vessels and the vains. I have kept my pact and have held my head. I have remembered the past, and have witnessed it last. I have rushed through slides, and returned the tides. I have driven a thousand miles. And here I am… still in a rush. Not to be somewhere around or see something profound, just an illusionary rush, the one through which I have driven, the one that drives you even. The drive that goes away, around, in time and in no time, oblivious of what’s away, what’s around, what’s in time, and what’s not. When all that’s to be done is to get it done, while it need not matter what’s being won and whether it’s fun. I have driven a thousand miles to get here, and here I am, not clear on where have I been, what I have seen or where have I reached. And here I am, yet to drive a thousand miles. All over again.