A glance in the rearview mirror reveals their advances like an army of steel beasts, their headlights personifying them as mystic creatures sent to devour. We travel under overpasses, and the sun is behind us. I hate these beasts and their beastly behavior. The notion that they want to devour me is perpetuated by their irritating proximity. Closer.
Here come the bastards.
But then we change directions, we come out of the shade. The sun is reflecting and bouncing inside of their cab compartments. The liquid light melts and washes away the dirty, crusty shadows and the occupants shine free in my rearview mirror. And then there is forgiveness. There is no more hate. Because behind that glass is a human being, a human being with expressions and hopes and fears and imperfections, and all the characteristics that make us what we are. Anonymity is a dehumanizing trait, and that is what the shadows cause. Maybe it is why I like the shadows, because I shy away from being a human myself. But then there are these faint moments when I catch a glimpse of what it is like to be one of them. And though I am irritated with their terrible driving habits, I love them in their imperfectability. Because I am like them in the sense that I am imperfect myself, and I have made the same mistakes that are now driving me mad. I melt like the shadows. I am them. They are me. I cannot escape this hard truth. And then the shadows flood back over the glass, and the monsters resume their chase, and I go back to hating. We fear and hate the unknown. That too is human nature.
But these moments of clarity are beacons of hope...are they not?
We forget what it is to be human. But a philosopher will tell you that being human is alot more complicated than little flowery expressions and love for your fellow man.
So...heh...
Screw that shit.
-The Piece
