Instinct.

Do you know what I find weird about me? In most things I’m a pretty laid back, level headed sort of bloke. But when I go into free-fall I really have to force myself to use the brake pedal. Why arrest the descent? Isn’t the speed part of the thrill?

It’s like those occasions when I’ve been driving and I’ve come across a sudden situation that needs an instant reaction. I’ve always taken the risky option, and so far it’s always proved to be the right one. I remember one occasion when mine was the only car to get up a hill laden with deep snow. That’s because I was the only one who hit it at speed, and forced myself between double-parked cars to do so. It was white knuckle stuff, but it worked. If I’d had time to think about it, I would probably have exercised proper caution. But I hadn’t, so I didn’t. And it worked.

And that’s why I find it hard to understand when people say ‘Hold on. I have to think about this. It’s risky.’ That’s a Greyville attitude, and it works well there. Outside Greyville, instinct works. And instinct works at speed. Instinct doesn’t do brake peddles.

Why am I saying this? Don’t know. I suppose I was just in the mood for saying something before I go to bed. Mood is a great expresser of instinct.

And now it’s time to hit the sack before the dawn comes up.