Wilshire Blvd

I blew through a red light. Even before I had entered the intersection, I made the conscious decision that I was going to run the light. The worst part, is that it wasn't even yellow turning red, it was straight up red. And it was nighttime. And I cut a car off in order to do it.

I felt a sudden surge of energy pulse through my body. I think it was the chemical release of stupidity mixed with luck. I wasn't in a rush. I didn't have anyone chasing me. I didn't even have rowdy music blasting. So why did I feel the need to put not only my life, but the lives of others in jeopardy? It's one of those embarrassing moments when you step outside of yourself and you think,

What the fuck did I do that for?

It reminded me of when I used to party a lot. We'd go out, get wasted, do drugs, then roam the neighbourhood being pointless and destructive. People would drop like flies in one alley or another, a stranger would try and lure one of us into their car, some random dude would promise he had a ton of drugs back at his apartment. No matter what, we'd all laugh and think we were the raddest shit to hit the Earth. The next morning we'd wake up and slink on with our day. None of us ever being 100% sure what had happened the night before, but all of us being thankful we'd made it through.

I kind of look at life that way now. I'm not sure why I'm making it through, but I'm smart enough to realize how truly fortunate I am.