I Don't Know

I may never like driving,
The motions tiring,
My life in my hands, terrifying,
I don't mean to be brash,
But I'd rather you not get exhausted and crash.
I may always hate driving,
But not the freedom of thriving,
Not the vehicle I'll be steering,
I want to paint it, decorate it,
In my life, that little Ford Ranger will be spotlit.
Even if, to the dislike, I become desensitized
For reasons, I'll be incentivized,
With my truck, uniquely me, uniquely characterized.
And for reasons, I'll like or love some of where I go,
Even if I forever hate it, at least I won't remain a shadow.