I love driving, firstly because I get to scream my favourite tracks in the car, making an arse of myself drumming on the steering wheel and using the roof for the cymbals, but I also love driving ‘cos it’s an awesome time to think. About everything.

Car-CrashLast night on my way to gym I was thinking, if some stupid dick had to jump a robot, slam into the side of my car and kill me, would I be cool with that? Would I think (in my angelic state looking over my bloody corpse) that it was just my time, or would I be thinking I wish I had more time on this earth to do what I needed to do. I’m not talking about fulfilling dreams like climbing Everest or head-butting Prince Charles, I’m talking about if I’d be happy with how people thought of me, and if I’d told everyone who’s close to me how I felt.

Who would miss me? Who’d miss me first? What would happen the following day when I don’t show up for scheduled appointments? Or the day after that?

Then I thought, how long would it take for the police / paramedics to notify my family, and how would they go about it, either if I had some form of identification on me or not. Like you see on the news when they tell you someone was killed, but they can’t tell you who until the family’s been notified. How long does it really take?

All this and more in an intense 5 minute drive to the gym. Have you ever thought about it?

Scary stuff.

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