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My bike is my mental colon blow.

I'm off the bike now. Injured. Why?
Was there too much movement.

My quest for clarity, enlightenment, interrupted.

My sole refuge gone. Coffee nor beer offers similar solace. The internal judgement of me is unbalanced.

As I ride, movement reduces the abstract of my day.

"Did I respond to that client properly?" - out after the first mile.
"How much do I need to make to have a great retirement?" - second mile
"I'm not worth shit, to me or anybody" - second hour, thought gone
"My house is a living hell" 2 1/2 hours
"I'm breathing and pedaling" 3 hours

Clear mind - 4 hours

Euphoria found in repetitive movement.
My body is full of abstract right now.
My bike is my mental colon blow.
Have a bowl...won't you?

Comments

Anonymous said…
"Baby Steps Bob," er 'Beef - it will all come together....... you have to step before you can peddle..... peace

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