If you mean my little story, then I'm glad you enjoyed it
I'm pretty sure I talk and/or babble waaaay too much on average when I post.
That's something I am trying to work on.
But finally having the car and being able to work on it gets me all motivated, then when I'm working I start getting back all of these memories from back in the 90's when I used to work on fiats and other cars a lot with my buddies (some weren't mechanically inclined, but they'd still hang out and join in the fun) and there'd be lots of laughing and carrying on, and stories being shared.
It was often somewhat of a group activity, sometimes to the point of what might be called a social event, or sometimes even a party. Like sometimes we'd be working along on some car and a bunch of cars/trucks would come roaring up to the house loaded with people and somebody would jump out and say something like "Hey Schafer! We heard you were working on (somebody's) car tonight, we brought the supplies!".
And then there'd be all these people carrying all kinds of stuff up to the house. Cases of beer, 2-liters of coke, bags of meat, Tyler's bass guitar...
Pretty soon you'd smell burning hickory followed shortly by that wonderful smell that is produced when meat and fire come together.
Then sounds of somebody tuning up my guitar and some thumps, bumps, raps as someone started getting warmed up on the drums, meaning that our auto-work would soon have the required live-band to provide the necessary motivational background music to keep us working into, or sometimes even all the way through, the night...
And remembering all that stuff, I start feeling a sense of excitement. Like something big, or important, or fun is just about to happen.
And I wanna talk, and laugh, and have fun, and share stories again.
All those memories start flooding back, and then the sorts of feelings/emotions that go with them.
It's somewhat of, I don't know what to call it, a rush?
It's like there's this huge part of me that's been missing is trying to come back, building up inside me till it's so intense it's like it wants to burst out and come alive. Something inside me wants to come back to life and *live again*. And I find myself feeling *very much* alive. Electrified. And I feel stronger, faster, more aggressive, and I don't ache all over anymore.
But then, ya know, I'm sort of all jived up with nowhere to go.
It'll be like, 3 a.m. and there's no people.
The town is asleep. The world is quiet.
Instead of the smell of BBQ there's usually the smell of diesel because there's usually a train engine or two Idling on the track on the other side of the lot that's behind my house and they often leave them running all night. Nobody to laugh with, or share stories with. And I'm no good at telling good stories anymore anyway.
It's all good though. I mean I know enough about how the brain and body work (and previous experience) not to be freaked out by the sudden changes, sensations, etc.
It's really just a combination of part of the natural healing process of the brain combined with some of the body's response to the extra stimuli.
As in, astrocytes the brain (and or other related auto-repair mechanisms in the brain) react to me using/accessing areas of my brain that are rarely used due to either being still fairly damaged or have been somewhat simply cut off from access because of damaged/broken direct-access links (hence the sudden random floods of old memories and emotions as the astrocytes start scrambling around trying to reconnect and patch things up) and then all that mental mayhem excitement causes glands and such in the body to go like, "Holy Crud, there's a WAR goin on!" and shoot a cocktail of various endorphins with an adrenaline chaser, which essentially deadens the nerves and shifts the brain and body into *overdrive*. hence the "stronger, faster, more aggressive, and I don't ache all over anymore" part. So, not turning into superman, just a little shot of nature's own version of opium and cocaine being directly injected into the bloodstream.
And if I happen to come onto xweb under the influence of all that and try to type a "simple/quick" post or response or whatever...
Well, it's effectively like shaking up a bottle of soda-pop then popping off the cap.
Eeeeeeeverything starts spewing out all over the place.
Try to ask a quick question about a clutch slave cylinder, 2 hours later: Come to realize that I've written something more like the first 16 pages of a novel containing half my life's story.
*QUICKLY select-all/delete and thank my lucky stars that I hadn't gotten to the point of actually posting what I'd written yet because this forum is full of nice people and I like them, so if they don't already think I'm crazy I don't want to make too much noise and scare them all away...* lol
Ah, and there we go.
Went to post a "quick reply" and looky what has happened.
I've gone and written another essay.
Happy Easter
