Tuesday, 26 February 2008


Drive. It's an important sort of thing. And it would be, since the drive(train) connects the engine to the rear wheels and that's what finally gets you motion. A good drive(train) will give you a fabulous sense of acceleration. So the thing about drive(tra...

Naah. Just screwing with you...
What I really feel like writing about is drive. Others ofcourse can call it desire. But I'll stick with drive. It's what really gets you to work. I remember, not so long ago, when the all-important drive was ever-present. No longer. If you were to plot a graph of my drive vs time, (The author is fully aware that you, the reader are most likely a sane person, and wouldn't sketch such meaningless graphs for yourself, let alone for him.) this is what you'd end up with:

It's not that the drive deserts me. It doesn't. It just behaves of it's own free will. Does what it wants. Drives me to work one moment, and then *poof* it's gone. Like it were never there. And I can't even work with the reduced drive, by taking say an arithmetic mean, or the root mean square of the drive you see on the graph. I can only work in that little window provided between the red lines (And thank god for that. (Thank you, god!)).

But aah. This probably made no sense to you at all... Which is fine. A little madness is what I need.

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