excessive speed was a factor

The obnoxious yellow lights on a stop light make me light-headed. They just look so smug, confident I will stop in timid obedience to their powerful color. Truthfully, I think they're just pathetic, like a dog who's all bark and no bite. I have no patience for them. My real competitor is the awe-inspiring red light. When I am approaching one, a sick yet delicious thought bursts into my head and sends an adrenaline rush soaring through my system. What if I didn't stop? What if, instead of putting on the breaks, I floored the gas pedal? I get almost drunk with the thrill of that prospect and always spend the next few moments coming down off my psychotic high. Sometimes when I'm soaring through intersections, I think about another car sailing straight into mine and this horrible beautiful catastrophic explosion of metal, rubber, and other things even I dare not say aloud. It even has a soundtrack [mafia movie opera music] and would undoubtedly happen in slow motion. I would fly up and away, watching everything happen with the most curious interest. And then I would keep floating away, maybe getting caught with the breeze, like bits of Earth. Because that's all we are anyway.