Highway to nowhere

My life now, it stretches out before me like a highway to nowhere. One of those prairie highways where you can be driving eighty, ninety, a hundred miles per hours and the only and the onyl way you can tell you're flying is the sound of the engine burning and the way the gas needle starts to lean toward that big old E quicker and quicker. But there ain0t anything to measure yourself or your speed against.
("Shotgun lovesongs", N. Butler)