The Wind And The Tree

I am the wind
I am the force of nature
I blow when I gather steam
When I hit a target I lose steam and then deflect
I carry on and remain strong
I am strong
I am stronger than you will ever be

I am the winded tree Natures hardships can bend me
A constant battle
To maintain my shape
The wind will bend me
It is a strain to maintain whole
I aspire to remain strong
I am strong I become stronger when I reshape
Wind, you can only make me stronger

Tree, I will break you
Maybe not this time
Maybe not next time
But I will bend you a bit each time
Until you finally break
You are not strong
You are weak
I am strong
You are no match for me.

Wind, you are strong
Very strong
I love your strength
It doesn't break me
It bends me
Each time I bend
I spring back, stronger
Your strength only enriches me
Keep trying to bend me
Make me stronger

Wind, once you were just a breeze
How did you become a force?
You gathered natures strength
And made it your own

Tree, you are right
I don't know my own strength
Now you have made me stronger
By making me see
The true strength I have 
Is making others stronger

Wind, once I was just a seedling
Below the earth
You could not enrich me
Your strength did not reach me
But now, I am a tall tree
My roots are deep, but strong
My bark is tall, but strong
My exposure is plenty
Your strength is what I seek
To strengthen my roots

Tree, hold on to your roots
I am just the wind
I am weak
I have no roots
I need you to ground me
For without you
I am just a breeze blowing with nothing to stop me
My strength is weakness without enriching your strength   

 

     

The Flood

The ideas rush in like a flood. Swamping me. Before one can be finished, another one. No several, are there to take its place. To tempt me. To distract me. To allure me. And then those are replaced by the next ones. The current is strong. I am drowning under a sea of ideas. The current idea is there. But it is fading under the weight of the ones coming right behind it.

Do I even want to finish it?
I don't.

Do I even want to fight the current anymore.
I don't.
I don't. I can't. I won't.

I am drowning under the weight of the lack of importance the creator places on me, the idea.

I am the idea. The idea that the creator no longer cares that much about anymore. Old news. There is a new kid in town. The teen idol. The big movie star. The hot idea and concept. They are fresh. I am old. Long forgotten.

I am a flicker of hope every now and then. The odd time I am remembered, by the creator, or asked about by others. "Oh, that. Don't bother with that. I liked that idea once, but other more interesting, better ones came along. Just forget that one, it is going nowhere."

So, I wont ever become anything but an idea who sounded great but never developed. The caterpillar turns into the butterfly. I won't ever be the butterfly. I wont get to fly. I will just drown. Be forgotten. Buried.

Today, I drowned. I just couldn't swim anymore. The rushing water got too high. I swam faster, the current increased its speed. No dam and no dyke was going to stop this. I was on the wrong side of the creation flow. Washing away, fading away into the depths of the bottom of the sea. Just floating now. Lifeless. The flood washed me out into the open sea and buried me. I was now just going to swim with the fishes. I have been reduced to fish food. Which is okay. My brain is now mush anyway.

I am an idea that will never be anything more than that. I will die as an idea unrealized as a concept or story. Nobody will remember me. Or talk about me. I am just one of the many droplets in the sea that formed together due to negligence. We exist out here, so that other hopeful ideas have a place to drown.

Both the idea and the creator get drowned by the overflow of ideas which cannot be kept up with. Whatever is fresh, is new, is what lives to see the day. But very few live to see a future as more than just an idea.
 
I submit. I will just write them down and finish them as fast as I can in the vain hopes of finishing them before the current, the flood, of new ones come in and overwhelm me. One day, I will just drown. Like my ideas. The price I pay for being the vessel that has to sink under the weight of extreme intuitiveness and creativity. 
The ideas and myself, it is our destiny. The one journey we always travel together.

Standoff

 Part 1

I looked right at him. Stared him down.
He had been in my head for weeks. Months. No years. Really, had it been years?

Yes, it had been about 15 years now. Hard to believe he had that power over me. Fifteen fucking years. He had controlled me. Dictated to me. Stole my time.
How in the hell did he do that?
I still had no answers. In a way, he had stolen my youth. I looked him in the eye again. This time, I wasn't budging. He wasn't flinching. It was a true standoff. He seemed to be stronger than me. Much stronger. Almost like he had no heart, no soul. But a brain and a resolve to just keep dominating me.
Why was I putting up with this?
Surely someone, something that had stolen my youth would be someone I could fight back against. At the very least, I could walk away from it. No, it seems I could not. I couldn't go a day without his control over me. Whatever power he had over me, he exerted it at all times. Even when I was not in his presence, he had me. He was in my head.
I could just feel him sucking out my energy, my resolve, as we stared each other down. I got weaker. He seemed to stay the same.  Never wavered. That was it. He never changed. He was the constant. If anything, he got stronger, better, faster, as the years passed. I just got deeper into the spiders web. The deeper I went, the stronger his hold got. But he didn't seem to care either way. That was his strength. He wasn't emotional about it. He acted like he didn't care, which made me think it wasn't a big deal that he had stolen my youth.

Part 2

We just kept staring. This went on all day. We both had extreme resolve. He seemed to be staying strong. I felt a weakening inside me. I had to walk away. Now. I turned, looked away from his stare and began to edge away. He didn't try to hold me there,  he just got inside my head, one more time, to make sure I knew he was still the boss. And he was the boss. There was no doubt about that.

"You'll be back."

"No, I wont!"

"Sure you will."

"Why is that?"

"Because I have control of you, I know what you want and I am going to make sure you always want it."

"Well, good for you. But I can walk away."

"No, ... you can't."

"Yes, I can."

"Go ahead then, walk away. Do it!"

"Good, I will. You don't own me. You are delusional."

"Yeah, see how that goes for you."

As I walked away, I knew he was right.
The staring match was over, but he was still staring at me. I knew that, even though he wasn't in front of me anymore. And he knew that I knew. No matter what I did, even though I couldn't see him, he was still staring at me, at the blank air, just waiting for me to come back into position, so we could resume the stare down. so he could win some more.
I knew that. He knew that. We both knew that. I wasn't fooling him and I wasn't fooling myself.
As long as I was away, I knew he was waiting for me to come back. And I knew I would be back. I might as well go back. If I wasn't there, all I could think about is being there.
Might as well just be there anyway.
Fuck, I have lost all hope. All fucking hope.

 Part 3

In my room now. I feel free. But I am not. I am the delusional one. There is no escape. I look in the mirror. I see me. But I also see him, staring back at me. He is in every reflection, every shadow, every image. There is no escape. And he knows he has that power. That is why he can be so arrogant about it. He told me once that I wasn't the only one. He has others. Millions. Now, billions, under his spell. That was his true power. He knew how good he was at it because he controlled so many of us. Many had tried to walk away before, but those of us who came under the spell always learned there was no walking away once he grabbed hold of you. He had become a part of you. That is how he works. He gets inside you, becomes part of you and then, like a cancer, he spreads faster than you can remove any one piece of him. It took me a long while to realize that. He had pervaded me. He does it while he pleases you, so you invite him in. Open the door. Feed him. You offer no resistance, until any resistance is futile anyway.
So, there he sits, waiting, still staring, biding his time, all the while knowing that I am coming back. Knowing that even though I am not there, my mind is there. Preoccupied with him and all he brings. There is simply no escape. I am completely under his spell. I can't ever look in the mirror and see only myself anymore. He has become part of me. And he is the bigger part of me than even I am. I don't even know if this is me speaking anymore. I don't even know who me is anymore. I am him, even though I want to be just me again. Is that even possible? I don't know. He says it isn't, and he is smarter and more powerful than me. Maybe I should just give in and admit defeat.
Yes, that is what I will do, I will just give in.

Part 4

 I barely recall our first meeting. It is still very foggy. That whole time seems very foggy at this point. I remember the wonderment I had. I think he knew he had me at the first moment. He probably got most of us that way. He has something for everyone. He knows what you need. He figures that out, offers it up, hooks you in, then he has got you. Once that happens, there is no walking away. And he is so ever powerful, that there is literally nowhere you can go to get away from him. He covers all corners of the earth. And even when you do get away from him, he is in your mind.

" Had enough?"

"Yeah, be smug about it."

"Well, you have the audacity to think you can just walk away from me?"

"I need to have that. I have to have that hope, If I don't,  I can't survive . Let me have that."

"No, you need to give in. Accept it as your fate. Then, and only then, can you have peace and contentment. I am here to stay. I am now the new superpower. Submit to me. You already have anyway."

I try to remember what it was like before him. It seems so foreign now. I remember the guy before him. He had a great hold on me too. He is still around. But he is not the superpower anymore. This guy obliterated him. I am not sure anybody can take this guy down though. He is so fucking powerful. This might be the end of all of us. It certainly feels like the end of me. Can I get me back? I doubt it. Maybe this is me now. I have to accept that. The cancer that is him wont kill me, just remain. But can't be removed. I have to learn to live with it. Accept it. As he says. He is starting to make sense. Of course I will think that way. He speaks for me now. I don't really have a brain, an independent thought. He speaks for me. He thinks for me. He is writing this right now. I better watch what I say, I don't want to make him mad. He is very powerful you know.

Part 5

You bet I am powerful. And I knew it right away. You have to see this kind of power up close to really understand the significance and majesty of it.

I remember the exact moment I stumbled on to it. I knew right away the power I now had in my hands. It was plain to see for anyone that cared to notice. I noticed. I didn't even know if I wanted it. That is a lot of pressure. Having that kind of control over people. But, I learned how to deal with it.
I just don't care. I am indifferent. Uncaring, unfeeling. Once you don't care, it is very easy to destroy lives. And then you get good at it,  and you kind of enjoy it. That never seems to wear off.
And now, when they resist, when they beg, when they plot, trying to find any way to get out from under that superglue grip I have over their entire being, it is an even bigger rush. They don't realize--if they just became indifferent like me--then they would be free. If they stopped caring about the control I have, then I would lose it.
But then, they are so preoccupied with breaking the grip, they hold on to it themselves.
I really don't have to do much. I just get them hooked, like a college kid just trying cocaine once to see what it is like, I have got them. They then give over control. Let me control them without any effort on my part.
The truth is that I don't really have any control. They still have control of it themselves. They just can't be bothered taking responsibility for that.
Fools!


                                 Part 6
 
I am left at a loss. How do I stop this? Can I stop this? I don't know. It doesn't seem that there is anyone else who has figured it out either. I look around. We are all sheep, being herded by his power and control. And he knows it. He has something we have become addicted to. Preoccupied on. He is the foodstuff we need to live another day. It is that essential to us. Or at least we think it is. Is it? I think it is. I don't know. Seems like it is. 
Maybe if I just pulled the plug. Took away his power source. Can I do that? I can try. What have I got to lose? 
I know full well what I've got to lose. He might decide to never come back when I turn the power back on. He has that control over me. He knows I need him. He has become essential to me. Essential,  yet destructive all at the same time.
Nope, pulling the power wont work. I have to change the mindset.  My own mindset. I have to get back to that place. That place I was before he came along. When nobody mattered to me more than me. Where I called my own shots. Where I had control over myself. Yes, that is what I have to do. Find that place. Go to that place. That place where he can't get to me. Where he can't stare me down anymore. That place where the me still resides.



                                     Part 7

"You're back"

"Yeah, I'm back, you said I would be, so you can't possibly be surprised."

"nope,  not surprised at all. You all come back. You need me. I know that. That is why I am so arrogant about it."

"Well, maybe I wont be back one time."

"How do you figure that?"

"I think I have found a way out. You can't follow me everywhere."

"Oh yeah, good for you. You might be one of the lucky ones. Might."

"Well, we shall see. I think you know what I am talking about."

"I do. Go for it. I don't need you. For every one of you that might escape, as few as you are, there are millions more that are just waiting to get trapped in the spiders web."

"Yeah, well, that is going to change. When I figure my way out, I am going to show them. Convince them that they have a way out too."

"Are you now? Good for you. You think they will listen?"

"I think so. They are hurting like me. They want..no..they need a way out. They will jump at the chance."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Many don't see it like you. They are happy to be sheep. To be controlled. They live off the fix I give them. They want it. They don't want it to end. They never want it to end."


He made some valid points. Do I want this fix to end? I don't know. It is so confusing. I know I want to try. I am afraid of the end result, but I know I don't want to continue on this way. It is a risk I am just going to have to take. I have no clue how this goes, but I am certain I have to go to that place, that place I was before he got his hooks into me. I can't be concerned with the others. Either they follow me, or become his disciples and gang up on me. For now, I journey to the place where hope lies. Where it exists.

The Dream of Denial

Sitting on the bench awaiting my chance. My chance will come. It has to come. I was once the best. Don't they realize that? They have to.
I get it. There are others who are better now. I accept that. I will wait for my chance. It will come. They will take their turns, and then they will turn to me. Why aren't they turning to me?
The starter is now out of the game. Sure, they went to the number 2 guy. I get it. I am not the number 2 guy either. I know, I have fallen. A lot. I am way down the pecking order now. But still, I have to be at least the 3rd or 4th option. Surely they see that. You don't just lose it all. I was the best. I still have it. Just put me out there, and they will see. I just have to bide my time. Wait for my chance. Wait for another chance.
I will be the best again. Once I am out there, they will see. I was unhittable. I will be that again. They say I can't pitch anymore. My arm is dead. I have no juice left in it. They are wrong. Wait until I am out there. They will see. I will blow them away.
The second guy is now done. Here comes my chance. What? Another guy? I am better than that guy. Okay, now I am getting the message. They are not going to put me out there. What the fuck is going on here? I think, at the very least, I have earned my chance at one more shot. But, obviously they don't see it that way. The game is out of reach now. Four more guys have come and gone and here I sit at the end of the bench. The coach is not going to put me in. I can see that now.
One day, I will be with a new team, and I will get my chance. And I will show them. I still got it. That is what I said, on the last 3 teams that I failed on.
I guess I am only kidding myself. And I will keep doing that. One day, I will get it back. I have to. I just have to.
This dream, the one I have once a month, this dream of denial, never dies.

From one blade of grass to another

"Ah, life is glorious, isn't it?"

"well kid, it is, but it is dangerous, and fleeting. Enjoy it while it lasts, because it won't. I have seen many like you come and go."

"What do you mean?. Life is great. We sit out in the sun all day, get some water on us when that becomes necessary.
The people they love us. They love to look at us. We are glorious and green and they all want us."

"Well, all that is true, but I have seen many like you, and they are now gone. They fall into that trap of growing proud and strong, and then, one day, a mower comes along, and you are chopped off, and dead."

"That won't happen to me, I will grow so beautiful, they will only want to trim me."

"Five million of your friends said that last year, and now, here I sit, with you, and they.....are...done."

"So, what is your secret then?"

"Keep your head up. Pay attention. Watch out for the guy that owns this place. When he is around, hide down below some other blade. Let him get cut. Then sprout back up and make him desire you."

"Wow, that is great advice, thanks. Is that all there is to know?"

"Hardly. Stay away from those weed people. They will crowd you. They will suffocate you. And the owner doesn't like them. He will dig them up and kill them with sprays. If you are anywhere near them, you will be a casualty of their demise, their ultimate demise."

"Again, thanks. I never thought of that."

"There is so much you need to learn kid. We can talk again, if you survive the night. I heard from the blade of grass on the other side of the lawn that the owner is doing yard work this week. Better watch your back."

"I will".

"And grow deep roots, that is the only way you survive long term. I saw Moses part the red sea, and I will see Martians land on the train tracks over there one day. If you want to do the same, make a plan, and stick to it."

"I want to survive. I really do. I guess I thought my being glorious and green was enough. I thought they appreciated me. That I was special."

"You mean nothing to them. They can go to the store and get millions more, just like you. Where do you think you came from?"

"I never thought of that, I guess I just wasn't thinking. I wasn't using my head."

"Lay low kid. Weeds are stupid. They sprout up, and glorious and proud. The next thing you know, they dig them up..or spray pesticide on them. Idiots. They not only get themselves killed, but some of my best friends died because of them."

"Again, thanks."

"Remember one last thing. You think I am old and worn. I am not. I just appear that way. When the owner comes around, I make like I am just new, green, proud, bright and shiny. He looks at me, then he looks away. I have survived doing that forever."

A cat I called Sugar

When you train racehorses and hang around barns you see a lot of things that others don't. This story is not about all those crazy things or stories that I could tell you.  I will save those for another time.
Growing up I have always loved animals. All animals. But I had a phobia about cats for whatever reason. I always thought they would scratch and bite me. I even had dreams about it. I have been bitten by dogs,  which I have loved as long as I can remember,  but I have never had a dream about it. And I have never been scared of any dogs. I don't know where my cat phobia started but I avoided them at all cost when I was very young.
As the years went by I just seemed to encounter the odd cat here and there,  and as they all seemed friendly, I got over it. Cats are just like any other animal.  if you let them come to you they will be very friendly and loving. There are exceptions to that rule and those ones let you know to back away.
By the time I got my first "real" job running my Uncle's factory I had completely gotten over the cat phobia. I liked cats. Even loved cats. At that time I also had my dog Minnie, a big,  lovable black Labrador retriever, and she would come with me to the factory everyday. Sometimes she would follow me around,  while other times she would just lie around and sleep in my office. Minnie loved all things, no matter what. But she was enthusiastic and did not understand that other living things could be scared of her.
There were times in our backyard at home that Minnie would chase a cat just to play with them, corner them and then get scratched on the nose. Many a time she came back in the house with a bloody nose. That never stopped her from doing it again. She was just lovable and carefree like that.
In my Uncle's factory, they had an old cat they called Maria. The sweetest and most lovable cat you ever met. And very tame. Nothing fazed old Maria.  She would just make her way around the factory, and most times just lie around. She would stand up if you went to pet her,  but otherwise she was very quiet and old. She had to be 15 by the time I met her. Minnie,  being Minnie,  went right up to her and sniffed her out. Maria,  unlike most cats just lied there and let Minnie feel her out.  Minnie licked her on the nose and they were best friends. After a while,  Maria and Minnie hung out together in my office and I got to love cats after knowing Maria.
A few years later I began to train racehorses and my first stop was the barn of Joe Gasparro. I only knew of this place because a co worker of mine, Don Altman, knew Joe from way back. They were both in their 70s while I was barely 30. Joe was different. Very different. He kept the barn although there was no one using it for a few years. There was shit all over the place. Cob webs everywhere. Old junk and vehicles everywhere. When I brought my horses there to train I was the only tenant. Most of the time I was there by myself. Joe had some horses,  but they lived outside and didn't really need any care. He put one big bale of hay out for them and they ate that for weeks before he had to replace it. Other than that there was one cat,  they called her "Mama". In the days when that barn was full of tenants,  she had quite a few litters of kittens.  Hence her name.
Mama was also a very sweet loving cat. But she was scared of dogs.  Many a late night after I had worked all day and trained the horses until dark,  I would be alone in the barn. Just me, the horses, Minnie and Mama. Minnie would chase Mama but she could never catch her. Mama was older but she was very fast and she was not about to let Minnie or any other dog eat her. She had survived barn life where most cats maybe lasted a year or two. Mama was a very sweet cat, and when Minnie was not there she would also follow you everywhere and fall asleep on your lap.
After a few more stops I ended up at a barn just north of where I lived.  It was a good place to be, in that I knew a lot of the people there and cut down on my travel time. When I first arrived one thing was very plain. There was a lot of cats. More than thirty. The female ones were constantly becoming pregnant. There was also varying degrees of friendliness. Some cats were very friendly, others gave you the time of day but mostly because you fed them, while there were a few who were very feral and would not ever let you touch them.
I have always been the type who could relate to any animal and get them to come to me. There was one cat in the barn,  a cream colored female, who had lived longer than the average cat would at a barn. She was about 3 or 4 years old. She was pleasant enough but no one had ever touched her and she was very careful to make sure you never did. It was commonly held that no one would ever touch this cat. I maintained I would get her to sit on my lap while I petted her, which sounded like a pipe dream to everyone else.
Most barn cats have trouble staying clean and their coats become dirty..or matted..or unsightly. Not this cat. She was immaculate. It was as if she was a house cat and was brushed every two hours. Unlike many barn cats she was also very healthy and maintained a nice healthy weight.
About 3 or 4 months went by and still I had not touched her. She would come up close to me and it was clear she wanted to be friendly, but she was not trusting enough and had a fear of humans. Because I was very animal friendly,  she felt safe to live in my tack room, which really was just a stall. That is what we used for tack rooms. When I was in their tending to my equipment or feed, she just lay there, comfortable enough to just relax. But if I got too close to her, she got nervous and if I got within petting range she was set to scurry out of the room. She would never hiss or threaten you like some barn cats who didn't want to be handled would, but she definitely was not going to be handled.
As summer approached it was very hot and we got to sitting down more, both in the barn and outside in the shade. At times this cat, which I had now named Sugar because she was so sweet, would just about brush up against my leg. As long as I didn't touch her, she now had a comfort level to do that. At times I would have my hand inches from her back and she would not move. However as soon as I made the slightest contact she would still scurry off. This went on for about another month. Winter was now approaching and smart barn cats that stay alive learn to find warm blankets to sleep in at the barn. Sugar had learned it was okay to sleep in my tack room on two or three blankets. I never gave her a hard time like other guys in the barn who did not want the cats in their room or messing up the blankets.
Each morning I would see Sugar and she would now brush up against my leg. Still no contact with my hand,  but as I got closer now,  each time she would not shy away.  I knew it was a matter of time until she would let me pet her. Her guard was now down and she trusted me.
As I was sitting in my tack room one winter day, Sugar was rubbing against my leg and my hand was loosely on her back. She was not moving. All of a sudden, she just hopped on my lap and sat there. Complete trust. She let me pet her and she moved her head into my hand. The barriers were completely gone. The cat they said no one would ever touch was now friendly. Not with everyone, but with the ones she knew she could trust.
For weeks she was the friendliest and most loving cat in the barn. I went to race out of town for a few days and when I came back I noticed she wasn't around. I asked others what had happened to her,  but of course they didn't know.
Being that it is a barn any number or things could have happened. Hit by a car. Killed by a fox. Just run away. Anything could happen. Usually though, you would find a body somewhere. That never happened with her. About two weeks went by and I was cleaning my tack room and I lifted up my blankets, the ones I was not using.
Deep under the blankets I found Sugar. She had died about 2 weeks earlier. I suspect she froze to death. It was a sad ending after all we had been through to gain that trust.
The cat I called Sugar. At least she died having learned to trust. Many barn cats came and went over the time I trained horses. Many were friendly and nice, but she is really the only one I remember. She will never be forgotten. I hope,  wherever she is that she didn't forget me.

Aint no stopping me now

I was hanging around the school, just waiting to play hoops in the schoolyard. I was an adult now, but I still loved to just shootaround or play pickup. Even if the kids were much younger than me, I didn't care. I still liked a good game of ball from time to time. In some ways, I have never grown up.  And...I don't want to. I am very mature and responsible, but I like to still be kid-like.
I noticed a bus outside the front of the school with kids gathering in front of it. Some began to board the bus, but it had been 30 minutes now and they had not left. I wondered what was going on.
A teacher was standing just around the corner, having a smoke, so I asked him what was going on. He told me they were waiting for the bus driver but he had not showed up yet. I said that was too bad and went back to shooting hoops.
About 10 minutes later I heard that the bus driver was not coming, at all. They would have to cancel the trip.
I said I wanted to help. I am always wanting to help. Even when I probably shouldn't, or don't know what is being asked of me, or if I am actually capable of helping, I want to try and help.
The regular driver backed out at the last minute, so they asked me if I could help. I had driven large vehicles before, so why not a bus? I said yes, I would do it.
For whatever reason, even though I was needed and supposed to drive the bus there, I did not. I was just a passenger. I don't know why it worked that way, or remember who drove the bus to that park, but someone else did. Phew! Half the battle was done. I had gotten myself in too deep, but at least I had a shot of pulling this off.
The kids ran off and played while I ate my lunch. My Uncle Stanley was there, and he asked me if I was still okay to drive the bus back to the school. He was now giving me an out. I could get out of this, and not have to face up to the fact that I was not qualified to drive that bus. But, I told him that I was okay to drive it. I was going to do this,  even though I shouldn't be doing this.
As the kids loaded back onto the bus, I surveyed the controls from the driver seat. How hard could this be? Yes, I had never driven a standard transmission before, but I had driven a forklift in the warehouse many times,  and that was standard, so I should be able to pull this off. Of course, driving a forklift in the factory meant no other vehicles, or pedestrians or even having to stop fast. I was only fooling myself this time.  I had no shot at pulling this off. We had to take the highway back to the school, and at top highway speed, I was in way over my head to stop properly if something happened. Hell, whatever! I had the emergency brake and if I stripped the gears, so what? I would just manage and bullshit my way through things, like I always did. That was always my way. Why stop now?
All the kids were on board, and Uncle Stanley was in the first seat,  first row, to my right.

"Lets go", and as he said that, I put it in gear, and we were on our way.

At least I could pull this part off. I knew how to engage a clutch and move from neutral to first gear. So far, I still looked like I knew what I was doing. We moved towards the road. Now, the first test, could I merge into traffic,  safely, and appear to make it look like I knew what I was doing? What if someone cuts right in front of me? Will I be able to stop? Am I foolishly risking young, innocent lives by doing this, just to be my stubborn self and prove that I can pull this off? Why am I doing this? What is wrong with me that I can't admit that I cannot do something?
Again, whatever! I said to myself. Worst thing that happens is I pull the emergency brake,  or slam on the brakes, and ruin the transmission. No one will get hurt. I can make up a bullshit excuse to smooth it over. I always could and I always have.
It's just a dream anyway. So, I will wake up before anything bad really happens anyway. And it is just a dream, nothing is real in a dream, just the doubts that you have when you are awake. That you can't deny or shut down,  or dismiss when you are dreaming.
 As always, before I had to deal with the consequences of my doubts about why it is I do what I do when I should not do what I do,  I woke up. I am sure I will have this exact dream again, or something just like it, and the cycle will continue. That is, until I deal with it when I am awake.  So far, that has never happened.
I am very confident and cocky when I am awake, but when I sleep and dream, I have all the doubts that everyone else has. Don't know what that means, but it is fact.
You can run really fast from the truth when you are awake, but the truth catches up easily when you are dreaming.