the Perfect Moment

Thinking about that perfect moment. stopped at a red light in the left lane with my blinker on, waiting, waiting in a world where waiting has become sinonomous with satan's firey wrath. Waiting patiently under the overcast sky. not quite dusk, yet darkening. And within that moment of anticipation to go wherever I was going, the perfect moment occurred. I was listening to some good music. And a large tractor trailer drove past me, speeding, or so it felt, to wherever destination its driver was heading toward. It seems as if automobile drivers are depersonified, so easy it is for us to see the shiny glass and metal exterior of a car, but harder is it for us to see the person at the helm. Maybe he was just doing his job, to make a bit of money to live, and then ultimately, to die, leaving nothing for his family. Or maybe he was an estranged casualty of drug addiction and would soon die in relapse, penniless, high, and empty inside. Or maybe he was a man with an idea, an innovator of sorts, whose profitable concept would turn to profit, and in turn, he would reap the benefits.

I know not his story. The depersonification did not enable me to know this man or woman, the person that was speeding past me. I was just thinking of the machine, the steel and glass amalgam that made me stop and enjoy. Because it just seemed so perfect, so inscrutably designed and meticulously planned by some unhuman force, like the scence of some beautiful cinematic masterpiece. And I was content in believeing that there is some presecnece of unhuman perfection in a hopelessly human world.