On the Racetrack of Existence...

Once came a vision of a racetrack, orange red, stretching all the way into the sunset, with white paint lines dividing in between; there are audience seats to the side, gradually melt down to grass plains. The entire humanity was on the racetrack, each person on a line of their own, each person running a speed of their own. Sometimes, by lapse of coincidence, certain people would cover distances together, they are acquaintances. But you see, each person has a different capability, some go faster, some go slower. And gradually, people run with distances between again. For periods of time, people run closer or further apart. But they run. They always run. For the road is the flux of life. It is always changing and humanity is always trying to keep up as a whole, and each person running to their full speed as they can.

But sometimes... Sometimes you meet someone running along your side. A smile, a whisper, a laugh. You can share the same vision of the sunset you're heading to, and your legs now seems light as a feather; the battery acid that was burning through your veins, the muscle ache and the fatigue bothers you no more. The things that worry you still worries you, but their weight on your chest and shoulders seems to have been halved, possibly even more. You feel like you can carry an extra weight of the world and still be perfectly fine. Her hair flutters in the wind, covering her eye in the most ridiculous way. She gives a funny look, possibly one of the most outrageous faces in the world, but it doesn't matter. You're the happiest guy in the world... So effortlessly...

You've been running for a while now. People you've seen walked by you, millions. People who've walked with you, thousands, and then some. And yet... none of them have come this close, have so easily lifted you up through vast distances. Just being there, the sensation of perfection. Where everything feels so right. A connection straight through you where no one has got to before. A skeptic, you were always one; but if ever the idea of the one was proved, you know where to look.

Right then and there, you take a better look around... The race is still a part of life, a necessity, a priority. You understand that, but at the same time, you can't help feeling that this is insignificant. There are always people faster than you, and there are always people slower than you. And your strength is limited. And you know that when your legs give in and your knees can carry you no more, you will retreat to the seat of the audience, watching others run. By then you'd be glad that you have slowed down, or speed up accordingly to keep a pace with the one running by your side. And you would have turned the world and moved the heavens if only you knew how just to hear her laugh and see her face. For in the end of it all, it's not a race with the world. The race goes on with or with out you. It's not a race with the road. The road leads on forever, you just happen to walk on a part of it. In the end of it all, it is a race with yourself, a journey to give meaning to why you and everyone is just running, an attempt to make sense out of all this.

Humanity have a tendency to lose touch of what truly matters when they pursue what they think matters. But it's okay. For a perspective you have gained. And between the visions of better days and the reality of the race, you can see a balance. You know why your heart is beating, you understand how you feel and the drive to act has never pumped so much life into you.

For all you need to hear is a laughter, all you need to see is a smile on her face, to feel her touch, and the world is perfect. To know that she can slow down a bit while you catch your breath, where you're heading is now secondary. And when the things that matters matter no more, you know that this is the one thing that will persist. And so, you race, but an arrogant smile on your face tells the world that you will do anything necessary to keep what truly matters.

To be at her side.