My life once was so simple that i was connected to the tarmac of racing world and everything surrounding it. i've lost that privilege my fears turned into a complex-grief, racing fatalities accidents aren't appealing to me anymore. i've turned into a psychologically-paralyzed maniac. though that Jeff Beck's licks and the sound of Nascar moved something in me that gave me a short rushes of adrenaline through a vein that had all kinds of
antipsychotics and joy with a seconds aparting one from the other.
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Days of Thunder 1990
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Vanishing Point 1971
Intoxicating despondency. A warm breeze sneaking through a broken shattered glass. a worried dream and a shrouded fear got me stranded in the desert yet healed my wounds in some beach by California side.
Hollow wishes based on illusion and predator silence ripped the desire to speak from us. a wave drowned Kowalski's girl and he wanted to reflect
to that way of death by moving fast through the mountains unafraid from the claws of death, deep inside he really…Translated from by
