What happened to the race reviews? I am tired of writing about and taking pictures of my being a backmarker. I must admit, sometimes I ask myself why I even bother. A-last-er, always last, a loser every week... it's not like I'm going to die if I retire. But when you have no self-esteem, well there's nothing to lose and therefore no reason to give up. Some bizarro motivation this must be, driven by bent logic and cold emotion. I don't recommend this state of mind.
There are a number of explanations for my lack of pace; no talent or skills, no guidance or supervision, no discipline or focus... let alone all the binge drinking and drug abuse. But I'm not sure if solving any of these problems will result in a gain of speed. And I don't think that winning races will restore my lost confidence. I realize that what I am doing, it is not about the competition and proving I'm quick, not about pushing the envelop and exploring the limits, not about working with others and being part of something bigger than me. No, it can't be about those things anymore.
(Configuring your delusion to induce frequent fight-or-flight state will lead to prolonged health and youth. So prepare for post traumatic stress disorder and the collective contempt from the burgeoning zombie apocalypse.)
Somewhere in the past my indoctrination failed, I lost my place in society, and descended into subhumanity. Somewhere in the future they will find my mummified remains still seated in the cockpit, ham fists still gripping the steering wheel, lead feet still pressing on the pedals. Time the Avenger; it makes everything that ain't Now, past or future, exists only as a possibility. And Now, online simulation racing is all I have. One flash of light, but no smoking pistol.
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