Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
A dream gone bye
Lots and lots has happened lately.
Lots is still happening.
but indulge me this.
~~~~
Black TT
-----
I remember my first car,
all 1.3L of pure carby power. My mates and I took her racing into the hills about 2 days into my owner ship and almost killed ourselves in it.
The brakes screamed and the entire car pivoted on the front left tyre whilst spinning 180 degrees.
We screamed OOOHHHHHH SHIIiiiitittttt as it spun and slammed into a gutter, to be saved by a cheap but sturdily made japanese rim holding under impact.
...
Fast forward years later, a foreigner drags his tired body onto a crowded bus, torn and bruised limbs dragging his groceries.
The heartlanders around him yell into their cell phones in dialects he can't help but understand.
He gets off at his bus stop, and looks at his watch. 7 hrs of freedom left... take an hour on the bus away from that... time to live.
...
Hours past
The foreigner sits with his wealthy friends, each enjoying the count down in the sweet sense of stolen time.
Hey lets go for a drive, says one of them. He jumps into the leather clad beast, hiding envy...
...
Years past
He sits in a car park filled with memories & ghosts, bolting on a set of rims, he tries to ignore the phantom whispers as he knows he must continue the suicide watch, whilst hearing more heart rending details of that he would rather not know.
...
With pride he looks upon his tiny fleet, one for work and one for racing, and the setup reversed just because he could.
He lets himself smile as he remembers the stinking hot bus.
...
Time pasts.
The man runs his hands on the smooth surface of the sportster.
Before turning the seller down and walking back to his now dusty steed.
Maybe one day, maybe never.
We all try to grow up one day.
Lots is still happening.
but indulge me this.
~~~~
Black TT
-----
I remember my first car,
all 1.3L of pure carby power. My mates and I took her racing into the hills about 2 days into my owner ship and almost killed ourselves in it.
The brakes screamed and the entire car pivoted on the front left tyre whilst spinning 180 degrees.
We screamed OOOHHHHHH SHIIiiiitittttt as it spun and slammed into a gutter, to be saved by a cheap but sturdily made japanese rim holding under impact.
...
Fast forward years later, a foreigner drags his tired body onto a crowded bus, torn and bruised limbs dragging his groceries.
The heartlanders around him yell into their cell phones in dialects he can't help but understand.
He gets off at his bus stop, and looks at his watch. 7 hrs of freedom left... take an hour on the bus away from that... time to live.
...
Hours past
The foreigner sits with his wealthy friends, each enjoying the count down in the sweet sense of stolen time.
Hey lets go for a drive, says one of them. He jumps into the leather clad beast, hiding envy...
...
Years past
He sits in a car park filled with memories & ghosts, bolting on a set of rims, he tries to ignore the phantom whispers as he knows he must continue the suicide watch, whilst hearing more heart rending details of that he would rather not know.
...
With pride he looks upon his tiny fleet, one for work and one for racing, and the setup reversed just because he could.
He lets himself smile as he remembers the stinking hot bus.
...
Time pasts.
The man runs his hands on the smooth surface of the sportster.
Before turning the seller down and walking back to his now dusty steed.
Maybe one day, maybe never.
We all try to grow up one day.
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