Chuck always ends up waxing poetic around his trainees. About how professional wrestling is a dance—a violent choreography of chokeholds and suplexes, timed to the tune of their bookers' ... [+]
driving down pitch black highways
of rural north carolina is
a rite of passage.
no brake lights ahead,
no headlights behind,
just you in a metal death trap.
watching for deer just as it starts to
drizzle.
you hope it stays that,
but it's hopeless to wish for less,
in a hot
north carolina summer.
laden down with useless
carry-ons, the car is
sluggish in its climb to
55mph for the full trip.
you've never had a problem
with speeding,
it's a good thing
you're not starting now.
the serenity is never
bound to last.
soon the charming darkness
becomes a void
where everything it touches
is swallowed by
the black empty of the night,
if you so much as
turn off
the brights.
you see fallen branches
that resemble deer,
reflective signs that
trick you into believing
you're finally not alone,
but it passes and the hope is gone.
travelling the dark, twisty,
highways of rural NC,
just as the skies open up.
of rural north carolina is
a rite of passage.
no brake lights ahead,
no headlights behind,
just you in a metal death trap.
watching for deer just as it starts to
drizzle.
you hope it stays that,
but it's hopeless to wish for less,
in a hot
north carolina summer.
laden down with useless
carry-ons, the car is
sluggish in its climb to
55mph for the full trip.
you've never had a problem
with speeding,
it's a good thing
you're not starting now.
the serenity is never
bound to last.
soon the charming darkness
becomes a void
where everything it touches
is swallowed by
the black empty of the night,
if you so much as
turn off
the brights.
you see fallen branches
that resemble deer,
reflective signs that
trick you into believing
you're finally not alone,
but it passes and the hope is gone.
travelling the dark, twisty,
highways of rural NC,
just as the skies open up.