A Very Old Car

Do you think that a person has functions and principles, similar to a car? An engine capacity, power, color?

Maybe we don't know our model from the beginning? Sure, we come in a shape, but do we know our shape?

All my life I have been trying to understand my model. How is that car supposed to be in the world? Which is the right way? So I started staring outside the window - at the streets and the people. It was full of signs. Signs in my city, in front of the school, at the square of the church... Signs in triangles and circles and some other signs, with written on top words: "Vogue", "Forbs", "Big Brother", "Love".

In the beginning, the signs were helpful, but after a while, I got confused. They were not aligned and sometimes even in contradiction. That messed me up because I wanted to be a good car that follows all the signs. How could that happen? If I follow this sign in front of the church, I will violate the other one, in front of the bar.

My sadness was growing every time I was violating, until one day, when I just stopped at the parking in front of Lidl. I was such a stupid model, out of place, out of trend. No wonder nobody wanted to drive me.

Who built me? What am I made of?

With the years my tires went flat and my accumulator died. Nobody changed my oil. Only the rust was growing on my doors. In the boredom, I started taping my thoughts on the cassette player.

"In the beginning I had Hope. I couldn't wait for someone to jump in and go on adventure with me. I hoped that the road would lead me to the purpose. Only if I take that new highway! Or speed up! Or off-road?..."

With time I sensed the smell of the mold under my seats and that made me wonder, which was my constructor? Was he happy?

When my mirror broke in one storm, I became cynical and started beeping at the people. They were getting frustrated.

Sometimes the nostalgia was bringing me the memories of my trips. The bridges, the sunsets, and other simple events. And I was laughing remembering how I overtook that red Beetle.

Time went by and I forgot. What was left were my headlights, looking at the people who were entering Lidl. The bags with groceries. The cars coming and going. The rain. Some nights it was cold.

One day, another old car stopped nearby. Out of the blue, I started my first conversation: "Do you know something about that Aristotle guy, who wrote about Telus? I heard it on the radio the other day and I am very busy with that purpose thing."

"I am not that smart", replied to me the Volvo.

"I was just wondering... is it the road that leads us to the purpose or is it the purpose that leads us on the road...?"

The Volve left. That day was sunny and a flock of seagulls flew above me. They shit the fuck out of my rooftop. My headlights were meditating on the movement of the heat above the asphalt. Somebody left a cold coffee on my hood.

Beyond everything, life was still beautiful. Life was magnificent!