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So, I was going through some old (Lol, to me old, as far as music goes anyway, is anything I haven't listened to in about a month. Music is such a wondrous, discordant, volatile changing thing that one person alone can not love or hear it all. As such, my tastes change constantly, but I never forget or dismiss anything I've once dearly listened too.) cd's a minute ago and I came across a burnt thing of Timbaland tracks. Now, I like Timbaland. His music has a good club feel to it, and when you get a bunch of friends together in a big room with flashing lights and alcohol, the ensuring activities are worth a laugh, they always are. It doesn't matter if you can't dance, or if you can. When the music hits you, if you can just accept it, something magical occurs.

But... I'm getting away from the point I suppose. I put the Timbaland cd in and was cycling through the tracks when I came across The Way I Are which is just thrown together so well. But the memories this evokes isn't about clubs or dancing, or even members of the opposite sex. A while back, I had a honda accord. It wasn't anythign special, but it handled well and had a good engine in it. When I came across the song in question, I burnt it to a cd with some heavier music and slipped it into my car. It wasn't forgotten, but I didn't realy think about it for a while.

Then, one night, we(That is I and two very good friends of mine.) were having a good time driving around a hilly, curvy road kind of neighborhood and I put in the cd with the song in question. At this point, all of us had been drinking pretty heavily. We'd just returned to the roads of said neighborhood from a trip to the gas station to pick up our forth 18rack of High Life. When the song came on, there were of course a few questions. Most people who get to know me realize that I'm a metal enthusiast. I like softer music, golden oldies, the sweet sounds of romantic ballads, and even musicals. But... none of these types of music so frequently evoke the raw power behind metal.

Well now, I'm getting distracted again, am I not? Anyway, once I'd convinced them to listen to it, we drunken few were having a grand ol' time swerving around on the dark residential streets of whatever this place was called. Laughing and singing along, wildly off key and with barely passable impersonations of the female singers voice in the appropriate places.

In the end, I suppose it was one of those things that you had to be there for. You might not approve of the fact that we were driving dangerously erratically. Especially considering the fact that we were pretty good and cocked at that point. Honestly, I don't care. It was just a good time, and an activity that was repeated often for no other reason than the fact that there was no pressure behind the wheel, with loud music and high spirits. We did this stoned at times. We did this drunk at times. Often both, really. It may surprise you to think that we did this with the same joy even when we were sober.

This was a release. When you do something not because it's risky and thrilling. Honestly, there was barely any risk except for the drive home. Thrilling? Well, perhaps, but not in a 'Breaking the law' kind of way. It was the stress release valve being opened wide. Just three hard working friends laughing into the dark and cheering over nothing but the fact that we were alive. Everyone needs something like that.