Thursday, August 9, 2012

r.i.p beast

Can't take it with you when you go.  So why care about it and hold it in high esteem?  It doesn't matter.  Not important in the scheme of things. It's an object.

I know that.  Logically I get it and I still miss my beloved.  When I see similar cars or cars that are the same colour I feel nostalgic and sad that the car is gone.  Almost brings a tear to the eye.  Yes I am grateful the friends who were in the car are ok.  Yes I am grateful my injuries healed.  It's just a car.  Lives are more important.

Still remember the policeman who arrived on the scene (he was cute) asking me if I drove the little dinky silver car.  The look on his face when I told him I drive the beafy V8 [that crashed into the car in front, that had crashed into the car in front and so on].  He looked a tad impressed.  I felt pride and also greif.  My car was crumpled up.

Now I drive another V8 which people tell me is so much better.  Performance wise, age wise, looks wise.  Yeah, I supose so - there's pride there.  And I still miss my beast, my beafy V8, the shark I use to call it.  Cruising, smooth, sleak, circling it's prey.  It was unique.  As far as I could research, only around 250 ever made.  Now down to 249.  A right-off.  Bye Bye car.

And I still miss my V8.

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