long drives

remember when i had so much feeling inside me, built up, that I had to stay up late and create, or go for long midnight drives through sleeping cities or sweet smelling summer night country roads, accompanied by late night radio? I had sharp edged emotions, feelings that pulled me apart and burst me at the seams, they almost had flavour and colour and texture.
I don't experience that same intensity anymore. I almost miss it, the stabbing, the bittersweetness. Now all my emotions get chewed up and dissolved by my gut, burn holes in my stomach and extend my belly and coat my tongue and deny me the pleasure of fruit, lentils, soups, make my joints ache. I don't have sharp edges to my feelings except for frustration and worry and bitterness. Nothing sexy, and it makes me feel old. All those big intangibles that used to consume me, they're swallowed up by worrying about medical benefit plans and what I'm going to feed a hungry man in the evening and which prenatal vitamin is going to not be a waste of money. And maybe it's ok that the teenage angst sees a natural decline, otherwise we wouldn't be as productive and altruistic and nurturing in relationships and society. But also, I think I could nurture that creative life force in me more, whet my appetite and find that intensity.