Well… what kind of rocket? If you’re talking hairspray-powered potato gun… I’m your girl.
Sometimes I miss the days when all I worried about was trying to prove I was a decent “mechanic” and that I could drink more than my boyfriend. The days when breaded chicken patties on a stick over a campfire were awesome, even if they dropped into the coals once or twice. (Alcohol kills the bad stuff, right?) The days that I made my own speaker boxes, put illegal bass lights in my mustang, a PA speaker under the hood, and switches in the dash to run it all like some kind of hot rod spaceship.
Things were simpler. Life was all laid out in front of me and all I had to do was choose a direction. Now it seems like life is nice and calmly traveling along on the railroad that I’ve laid out. It’s rather blah, tbh. I want to travel. I want to see things that aren’t along this road… Who says I can’t jump the tracks and go have a milkshake and then come back and hop onto the train again? It’s my journey.
That is my goal. To live all of the world and not just what’s on this path.