"Show me a hero and I'll write you a tragedy." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
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Victoria Morana Kingsley is average in nearly every aspect of her life. She isn't a great fighter. She isn't a brilliant genius. She doesn't have the greatest paying career. And...
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I actually have so much love for Tori's pets I'm dying on the inside.
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Who knew that we could drive past ten states in one day?
This girl didn't.
But as crazy as it is, by Friday lunch one day later, Bucky and I had gone from Stowe, Vermont to Greensboro, North Carolina. Passed NYC – much to my dismay, never been to the Big Apple – as well as Richmond and Philadelphia. He's been sticking pretty close to the coast line, not driving too far inland. And I did manage to take the wheel so he could sleep for some time, but I got distracted by an apple-picking farm sign fifty minutes in and almost crashed us into a cattle truck.
Strangely enough, I haven't had the wheel since.
We (he) decided that a break after fourteen hours of driving was well overdue, but I personally think it has something to do with me replaying and belting out our (my) official Road trip anthem; Shelter by Machineheart. It's not a popular song, or a very upbeat, party-like song, but my phone froze on it a few months ago and wouldn't play any song bar that one until it got fixed. Instead of wanting to personify the song and throw it off a cliff, it actually grew on me.
Every time I listen to it, I feel like I'm stepping into a story, a tragedy; starting at the prologue, feeling the beautifully harrowing experiences of the characters, following them on their journey. Readers are with characters every step of the way in a story. They follow their footsteps. And it isn't just books that tell this, but good songs, good movies, good TV shows, good art. Anything that tells a story, anything that reflects the artist's own life.
A good song is a story that you listen to with your ears and heart. It's a story that, even without lyrics, can rings bells of peace, beat drums of war, bow violins of sorrow, and strum guitars of love. Not that this song is one of the greatest songs of all time, but I can feel it, ya know? Pretty sure Bucky felt something inclined towards drums of war by the eighth time I sang it though.
"Like an ancient story Full of death and glory Remember who we are,"
Twenty or so times during the car trip did that song tumble past my lips, the sombre and nostalgic yet compassionate beat and my mismatching bubbly attitude making Bucky laugh or smile the first few times. After those said first few times however, like I mentioned previously, he was only just polite enough to stop himself from running us both into a cattle truck on purpose.
"With our eyes wide open And the doors all closing Surrender to your heart Remember who we are,"
Greensboro is about as nice as it comes. Laid back people, white-picket-fence-like neighbourhoods on the outskirts of the city, with friendly, go-happy streets all around the CBD. I'm suddenly wishing that I'd chosen to move here instead of Stowe five years ago. Some dude running one of those park flower stands even gave me a rose, entirely free of charge!
