True passion is fascinating, it’s unique. Obsession will take your life over. Drag racers are the personification of this genuine experience. To me, this is the pursuit of the present mind. Trying to achieve something not a lot of people know how to do. To get there, it’s quiet and you know you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to get back.  I felt that America lacks culture, but being at the drag strip opened my eyes to what real American culture is. Here’s a thought: 

"The Americans we are,  

built faster, stronger, better. 

custom - one of a kind  not the one percent but the ninety-nine,  

a brotherhood  

we are real people, we are the definition of passion. 

I’d die for first, because there is no second." 

I imagined them during the week, at their shit job, eating their shit lunch, thinking about Sunday, thinking about when they can get back to the thing that they love. They have an honesty with themselves, that they sacrifice the majority of their time to do this one thing, this meaningless thing, and I will forever love them for that.  They are all quarantined with the sickness of obsession, at the track, alone together. 

So buckle up and let the things that drive you, drive you.