Posts Tagged ‘motorcycle’

War Machine

Posted: May 12, 2015 in uncategorised
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Suzuki

A few years ago I bought a motorbike. A 250cc Suzuki Intruder, 160kg, not the most amazing motorbike in the universe, nor the biggest or loudest, but it looked pretty cool, in jet black and chrome.

I learnt how to ride on that bike. At first I was too scared to even go on main roads, I stuck to side streets and the block of houses in which mine was located. It took some days before I resolved to bite the bullet and go for a long ride, which for me was an hour or so. I used to drive to a place called Chirnside Park to see my friend Michael. He was always working, so its not like I even did much when I got there, but it was the journey that I craved; the mission. My confidence began to skyrocket. Afterall, I’d been riding for over a week and hadn’t even crashed or stalled once. Needless to say, my winning streak was short lived and I made a right fool of myself more than a few times.

I remember once, I was sat at the traffic lights waiting for a green arrow to turn right, on a steep hill. The arrow turned green, and I stalled, by the time I realised what had happened and started the engine again, the arrow had turned red. I looked around and waved at the other cars waiting, trying to demonstrate my apologies with various head bobs and hand movements. The driver immediately behind waved an ‘it’s okay/no worries’ and smiled.
So, waiting for the arrow to turn green again, and would you believe it, I stalled a second time. This time I got the engine going and got through just before the arrow turned red, leaving those cars stuck there. Poor shmucks. It was then that I realised I had been sat in second gear the whole time, so it’s no wonder I kept stalling.

I’ve since had plenty of bumps, crashes, hits and knocks, and as you can see, if you meet me in real life, none of them have proven fatal. In fact, both myself and my bike survived with minimal scars and few broken parts. This has mostly not been the case for the things on the other end.

The motorbike I bought back then was a dream to me, it was a key to freedom, it was a transportation device to another dimension, where my throne glides above the roads, above all the clunking metal boxes packed into every street, the heaving, grunting, bumbling squares, chugging around like little fat trains.

Now, my bike is a lot more than that. The glamour and pride of riding is meaningless to me, the chrome is scratched and faded, the exhaust pipes are rusted, the dream is mishapen and battered. I no longer identify with other bike riders. The dick measuring has ended. I ride alone, where nooone drives, where noone is, where noone see’s.

I used to want to get a bigger bike, something louder and heavier and faster. so I could fare better with the dick measuring, so I could sit alongside other bikers and snort. But this bike will always be the sledge hammer used to destroy my dungeon prison.
The only reason I’d change hands now, is because there are other prisoners.

On that note, I intend to place an ad on gumtree for the bike. You’ll probably think, after what I’ve said, that the bike is not roadworthy, but it still runs surprisingly well, and I intend to fix it up as good as can be for the next worthy adventurer.

The ad will talk of how great the bike is, how shiny it is and how it runs and starts and goes.

But there is a secret which I will not disclose in the ad.

Beneath the thin layer of black paint is no peace, no calm, there is a war machine, that drips with the blood of clumping cars, signs, traffic lights, barriers and any other foolish obstacle.

This is a secret I learnt, and it is a secret that the next worthy adventurer will learn as well. Until one day, the bike will transform into a fiery incarnation of destruction. A true transformer, whose sole purpose is to obliterate careless, texting drivers and selfish rich royalty.

Anyway, on another note, please watch out for motorbikes. My bike is bulletproof, but most riders are not. If you don’t check your blindspot, then one day you might finally get me good.

I wrote this while listening to: Queensrÿche: Operation Mindcrime Full Album

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Motobattle

Posted: September 20, 2013 in uncategorised
Tags: , , , , ,

Oh,

hello there.

I didn’t see you.

I was quite preoccupied thinking.

What was I thinking? Well, that is a rather personal thing to ask. But I will tell you, because we are personal friends who share all sorts of deep and meaningful things with each other.

I ride a motorbike around the place. Not in a gang or to look cool. And not for practical reasons either.

Lately, a thought crosses my mind when I ride my bike.

I’m not a morbid person, and I’m not depressed, but as soon as I cruise along down past the cars stuck in a queue. I wonder if today will be the day I crash.

Lots of people have told me how dangerous riding a motorbike is, and how much more likely it is that you will be involved in an accident. I’ve heard all the horror stories. When I get on my motorbike I wonder if it is now.

I wonder if I will be lying on the cold pavement ten minutes from now. I try to imagine what it would feel like to fly off the motorbike. To tumble and crash and rip like a computer being thrown from someone’s window. Will my legs break like the computer monitor cracks and shatters. I picture it all in my head.

I don’t ride my bike dangerously, most of the time. And I don’t speed. But it doesn’t stop me from wondering just if today is the day. I’ve got kevlar jeans I wear whenever I ride my bike. I think about those jeans. Will they last.

I’ve never experienced extreme pain before. If I could choose, I would like the pain to be awful. But without leaving me unable to do the things I like to do. Like, climb trees and run and play sports. So, I wouldn’t want any long term injuries. Although, having said that, one thing which I wonder is, if I were to somehow become paralysed from the neck down, or the waist down, would I become very productive? Would I lead a more meaningful life? My natural talent is creating things. Like stories and ideas and pictures. But I am not very productive. If I were paralysed, or even if I was just hospitalised for a long time, would I create things more often than I do now? Would I really dedicate my time?

Have a think about it. If you were hospitalised for a long time. What would you do? Are you happy with your honest and truthful answer? You don’t need to tell anyone but yourself.

Anyway, thank you for reading my ramblings. I really have been thinking about crashing a lot lately, and I just had to spit it out of my head.

Good night

p.s here is a photo of my bike.954766_10151648495914292_107828134_n