a mild rant
a letter to the woman who passed me today:
dear woman in a hurry,
yes, you were in a hurry. you shot me a "look" as you drove past me, perhaps envious of my relaxed demeanor, driving the speed limit and all. maybe you even called me a name. i don't mind. i understand your jealousy. it sucks to be in a hurry. i really hate it, and, if you know me, you know that i don't just throw the term "hate" around freely. i could tell you had other things on your mind. i know because you had your left blinker on as you passed me on the right and because you had a cellphone pressed against your cheek. don't think me unkind or unfeeling. a woman of your status, driving a new M-class (such a large vehicle to control), picking up the dry cleaning, dropping of tax forms, going to lunch, does not have the time to sit behind a little piece-of-shit bonepony going 45 miles an hour. i know, i know. but really, dear, rather than being in a hurry, you should do less. is all that shit so important to you that you would risk your safety and the safety of others just to get them all done in time for oprah? ananda? the five 'o clock news? may i suggest. . .
take off your watch. lose your cellphone. go for a walk. breathe. notice, the flowers that have rushed to bloom -- aren't they already dying?
.
dear woman in a hurry,
yes, you were in a hurry. you shot me a "look" as you drove past me, perhaps envious of my relaxed demeanor, driving the speed limit and all. maybe you even called me a name. i don't mind. i understand your jealousy. it sucks to be in a hurry. i really hate it, and, if you know me, you know that i don't just throw the term "hate" around freely. i could tell you had other things on your mind. i know because you had your left blinker on as you passed me on the right and because you had a cellphone pressed against your cheek. don't think me unkind or unfeeling. a woman of your status, driving a new M-class (such a large vehicle to control), picking up the dry cleaning, dropping of tax forms, going to lunch, does not have the time to sit behind a little piece-of-shit bonepony going 45 miles an hour. i know, i know. but really, dear, rather than being in a hurry, you should do less. is all that shit so important to you that you would risk your safety and the safety of others just to get them all done in time for oprah? ananda? the five 'o clock news? may i suggest. . .
take off your watch. lose your cellphone. go for a walk. breathe. notice, the flowers that have rushed to bloom -- aren't they already dying?
.