Who's Driving?
Whoa—slow down.
I start to wonder who's at the wheel?
Why are we driving so fast?
What the hell is going on?
Thoughts start coming, but others around me don't seem to wonder.
It's like they're in a trance.
They're even smiling, as though they're enjoying the ride.
Am I crazy?
More thoughts come: it'll end badly, it's too dangerous.
I hang on until my knuckles are white.
Seat belts won't be much good if we go over the cliff.
I have to ask who's driving?
Surely he has better sense.
We're told he's capable.
That he knows what he's doing.
That it must be this way.
That we must go along with this.
But there's me—wondering and asking—
Who's at the wheel?
Why does it have to be this way?
It seems so reckless and out of control.
Am I the only one?
Why do the others not wonder?
Why? I want to know.
Then someone lets out a laugh.
Another a scream.
They're enjoying this!
They're actually enthralled with the ride!
They can't get enough.
They smile at me and wink.
Do they know something I don't?
We keep going faster.
The ride keeps getting rougher.
Somebody help me!
Somebody stop this insanity now!
We're coming to the top of a hill.
Soon we'll be going over the other side.
Look out! There's another car! He's racing past us.
He's challenging our driver to go faster.
No! Stop! Oh my God—we're going downhill.
Down! Down! Neck and neck with the other car.
I see the other driver—he's giving us the finger!
His passengers are mooning us!
This is outrageous—in these times it's enough to make you lose all hope!
It's—TODAY!
