Life On Two Wheels

Along the river and toward the mountains a morning shadow shimmers across the road. The rays of the first light jet through the trees and across a figure gliding upon the road. His breath trails in short spurts, petrified as it hits the icy air. All is quiet except the slight sound of the athlete as he summons himself for yet another days work. Soon the rest of the world will bustle with life as well and the brief simplicity of cyclist and nature will disappear into the everyday struggle of life in full motion; the errands and intervals, the appointments and intersections, and the deadlines and finish lines OutPaceTheRace

Saturday, January 02, 2010

The American Dream

I’m sitting in starbucks. I’m listening to the sounds and watching the people. They don’t care and I don’t know nothing of anyone. The baristas are fake, the people are fools and it’s all for money. Everywhere I go, everything I say, I end up paying. Does it feel real? Do you feel at home as you throw down a dollar? How much longer can you look past the cashier and her artificial smile? How can you continue to agree when it’s so superficial? I can’t, I hate the great world of pretension; the swirling foggy outline of this and that which is true but not, the head numbers, interest rates and credit scores. What is is, and what’s not, is not. Don’t talk to me for the sake of talking. Get your insurance, sell your porsche and buy what you can afford. No one’s fooling nobody. But you are bringing down everybody. I’m going to drink my Americano, but of myself I refuse to opine. What you see is what you get, discard your whims and embrace reality. From now is when the truth begins.