October 27, 2013 § 1 Comment
“In my mirror I see you.” Kevin Devine
I wrote something else but it didn’t seem a fitting note to return too. I think I’ve said it before, in which case I will be saying it again, but indifference is the cruellest of emotion. So much more than hate. Hate is so easy, so rhetoric, so basic and simple. To hate you have to feel, you have to care for. To be indifferent you simply don’t give a fuck about something. Live, die, a person with indifference carries on their day the same regardless of what happens. Cruel. That’s what I’ve been feeling. That’s why I’ve been staying away. I’ve been so empty. So indifferent, so heartless, soulless, gutless, coward. It smothered me into indifference. Into lazy days. Into screens and screens and screens and no feeling. No love. But, today, for the first time in a long time. I feel myself fighting back. Throw big, breathless punches, like I’m actually throwing them to preserve my life. I want it back. I want it all back and I’ll go through you if I fucking have too. In my slumber I found what was important. I didn’t find how to get it but what once was lost now has been found. I find myself creeping back to former glory and beyond. One should always try to exceed former glories. Otherwise, what’s the point? It’s just words anyway.
What I’ve lost and have come to take back is motorcycle happiness. For some that phrase will need no explanation. Those people will know what it’s like to rap your legs around a combustion engine and hold on for dear life. To know the wind around your body fighting the roar of the engine and the thick warm fear that at any moment you could be catapulted over the reservation into the oncoming traffic. Scary yes. Terrifying? You bet. But you try feeling indifferent in that moment. You try feeling how you feel when you spend hours on the internet or watching T.V. You live more in four seconds of white palmed gripping of a motorcycle handlebars then you ever would catching your reflection in a flat screen. I’m not saying be reckless. I’m not saying push yourself until you reach a point during which you sincerely fear that you might die. I’m just saying once you’ve wallowed in the fuzzy numbness. That day to day to day to week to month to decade gone blur. Then you should seek the motorcycle happiness, in anyway you can get your hands on. Why not? What’s your excuse?