Lines running fast

To be honest, everything is perfect in my life. House to love, woman to live, job I like to do, money to spend. I can’t complain. I’ve got what I wanted.
A car to drive. White lines on my left, running fast, passing by, almost continuing in a nowhere race. Bluesy black around me. A perfect night to dream. Surrendering myself to music, mixing ideas with hash and a mug of tea. Everything is perfect. Driving.
Not many minutes ago I decided to get into this capsule. Doors closed. Seat belt. Key inserted. Switched on the battery. Lights on. Steering wheel grasped. Engine started. Taking off. Going away.
I’m feeling everything they said about being God. Powerful, full of passion and strength. High from deep to outside. I can press on the accelerator. Eyes guide the way.
I don’t want to stop, but I know petrol will be running out. Everything is finite. That’s how it is. No worries anyhow.

Then suddenly I do not know where I am, nor where I’m going. A tremble traveling rippling through my body. No bother. Freedom is stronger. And yet I don’t know why I am here. No fears. Until the end of the lines.

I’m lost. Who cares.