FiHS Preseason 2012 in a few days and I'm struggling to get motivated. Every time I get into a car and do a few laps it leaves a bad taste in my mouth and a weird feeling in my gut. I suppose this is what happens when you have just the right amount of talent to be a backmarker. I try to console myself with the victory (that Lane let me have) at A1 Ring in the 82's over at Hammerdown Racing League some weeks back. But it is not enough to overcome this strange malaise that has taken me over.
One more year, one more season, one last try before I give up on this grand fantasy of being a racing driver. If the world doesn't end this December, I'm going to finally step out into the real world and look for some sort of job. So I can be like regular people and help perpetuate plebeian systems of fallacies and farce.
I remember all the things I've tried to be; poet, actor, designer, musician--- all I've really been is mediocre. I was able to carry on after these previous failures by telling myself that these endeavors are all measured subjectively. But there is no denying the racing stats I've compiled over the years. The proof is in the numbers and I'm no good. Here I am, kicking yet another dead horse.
Still, I am thankful for the opportunities I've had. It's been quite a ride and I've learned many things. I wonder what I'll end up doing, considering that I've got anywhere from 40 to 70 years more imprisoned in this character, this personality, this identity. I'm beyond any possibility of early or untimely death. Down this road, could there be something that will change my mind?