It’s hard to let go sometimes…
I look in the closet and see a shirt of mine that a girl used to wear all the time, my talking alarm clock and all the times we have had… good and bad, pictures of times with people that I don’t ever see or even get along with anymore, a lighter that was lost in the imfamous VW seats that belonged to someone else, times you had in the car whether it was all by yourself or with someone else…
When you think about the gravity behind these little reminders of the events in your life, you are forced to see deeper into yourself. I look inside myself often, and in all honesty, I haven’t always liked what I have found. I have found myself to be selfish, overbearing, insecure, weak, angry, vindictive and desperate. I had to face these issues of mine…
I took on my flaws head on, and as a result I feel as though I am a better person. Stronger, smarter, more tactful, more considerate and FAR more understanding… but I am by no means perfect, nor will I ever be. Some say that I’m “shot out”, some people just think I’m fuckin’ crazy, and some people can completely relate to me in some way or another. They can understand a portion of my being because it parallels their own… I love it when that happens, that means that I touched someones life by just being honest and real.
Yet the memories remain…
sometimes I don’t want to let go of something that I just know is bad for me, like those I am reminded of from the reminders I spoke of. It sucks ass when you drive down the street and see all these restraunts and parks and other likewise places that you shared moments with someone special to you that may or may not have FUCKED you in the end. Those kind of reminders are not so much material, alas the emotions are still packed inside the memory. It’s nice to be able to hone something tangible with personal sentimentality, that way you can crush, burn, smash, seer, stab, bash, run over, drag, chuck, shatter or otherwise eliminate it from your life.
It’s my version of therapy
-grin-
Yet… what about the grey area… what about those times where:
“It was the best of times… it was the worst of times…”
That… is exactly what the 1994 Mitsubishi Mirage S Coupe is a reminder of to me.
This is me, Saying Goodbye.
I bought the Mirage while I was still living by myself back in April of 2004, I had just become “available” again which was prompted by a horrible scenario that ultimately led to me breaking out of the depression that I was going through… Not only was I single again, but I was actually ready to ENJOY it considering I was miserable for the last year or so of my last long term relationship. I had quit Hungry Howie’s and worked 30-35 hours a week in the time of my 2 weeks notice and worked Papa John’s 40 hours a week also… all that working, I had managed to save up enough money to buy this Super Clean 1994 Mitsubishi Mirage I found in “The Flyer”. I already had the Honda CRX, but the head gasket was blown, I had a Ford Focus that I had been ragging out working all those hours in… but I wanted that to be my pimp ride, I wanted it to be for road trips and such… anyway… basically I had 3 cars now… but this one… was my “Super Pizza Delivery Mobile”
I was doing ok… I was working crazy ass hours (kind of like now… only… worse.) at Papa John’s and I was enjoying my new life at the same time I was trying to figure my own shit out… Audioslave never left my CD player for about 3 months hahaha.
But then… I got the Honda running again, and she was a little better on gas… so… since I had some drama going on with the Focus at the time… i had to choose between my first florida car that was now sort of duct taped together… or this new addition to my array of weapons of mass delivery. In all honesty, I never really liked the Mirage, it was my least favorite car to drive… maybe becuase it had shitty speakers, no power steering, no A/C, and it only got like 25 miles to the gallon where the honda got 30 in the city even. Whatever the case, the decision I made to take the Honda up North is one I’ll never forget…
Her last run was in Tennessee…
Once I got back to the Dirty South… I had but one car left now… I went from being single, miserable, depressed, and unemployed, to angry, selfish, and lost, and owning 3 cars, then to living out the last month of my lease to my apartment with a girl I barely knew and her cat who just had kittens a few weeks earlier, with plans to kick out the non-rent paying people living in my house in Ohio after I moved all my shit out of my house.
-sigh-
At least the blow job were GREAT…
The Mirage had my back though… when I really needed something to work right for me, the Mirage was there. I worked my ASS off during that month and even had to slap a new set of front brakes on her I was driving her so hard. I made enough money to get me up to Ohio, take care of my shit, and pay (most) of my bills…
I am hardcore.
So was the Mirage…
I’m sure if the Mirage could talk, she would tell about how this asshole pizza guy murdered her in cold blood… how the backseat was never intended to be used for those types of things… and the stains may come out, but the scars are forever… but she would have a smile on her face, and a bow-legged walk.
Baby… I’m glad we met… good luck to you..
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