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I have discovered the three insect laws of the motorcyclist:

Insects are better than a doctor at testing your reflexes; they will home in on your knee like a marine sniper causing you wildly kick your foot in the air while loudly exclaiming “Yow! What the f*$%k was that!”

Which brings us rule #1:  Bugs f*$%king hurt.

Some of the larger insects, moths, dragon flies, giant effing bees, will eschew the practice of their smaller cousins and instead of aiming for your more vulnerable points (shins, fingers, etc.) they will fly straight at your face, splatting spectacularly all over your visor. This causes you to silently cuss all of insect kind and squint through the smeared bits while praying you don’t hit anything.

Rule # 2: the larger the bug the more likely it will splat all over your face. (And if you’re not wearing a helmet, God help you)

There is a species of insect out there that is the green beret/navy seal of its kind. This insect is known as F.B.B. or “fucking bastard bug”. This name arises from the chant issued after you, the victim, have just had said F.B.B. fly up your sleeve and wage unholy war on your now unprotected flesh, biting you approximately 40 times and working its way perilously close to your waistband before you even realize you are under attack. This causes you to start issuing war cries and flail your flesh like it’s the last thing keeping you from Heaven while simultaneously clamping the brakes and swerving to the side of the road. Once safety parked you proceed to swiftly undress and flinging your cloths about while jumping around and slapping at yourself; looking somewhat like a masochistic chicken attempting flight. This provides no end of amusement for the fucking bastard bug and various passers-by.

Which brigs us to the final rule , Rule # 3: Bugs are assholes

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When she told me I didn’t react. I stood there thinking to myself “Is the part where I laugh? Or where I cry?” I didn’t do either, instead I sat down next to her and said, “ok,” and let the world wash over me.

Time seemed to both stop and rush forward, my breathing became shallow, I stood up and wandered around the hotel room… Why does life altering news have come to me in a hotel room?
She left to take a walk and I, I went to the bathroom to puke, ended up hyperventilating and falling into the bathtub; all-in-all a better choice. That done I went back to the bed and sat there. “I’m going to be a dad.” The thought rolled ’round and ’round my head forever. “I’m going to be a dad.” with each repeat of that thought new emotions and ideas crept up. “I’m going to be a dad. I am not ready for this. Me? A dad? Oh man, the world is not ready for this. How could this happen to me?! Well I know how it happened… I’m going to be a dad! This is so cool. I can’t wait to teach the kid all about old cars and baseball and… wait, what if it’s a girl? I’ll still teach her about old cars and baseball and fishing and… What am I going to do?! I’ve never done this before! How do I do this? What do I do now?”

She came back into the room and we looked at each other. “We’re going to be parents.”

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It comes sometimes, inspiration, in fits and spurts, short starts and abrupt ends. Other times it flows like a raging river and must be dammed or run out of control. My muse is bipolar; and just like that the faucet is turned and the flow of words stop.
Let me catch these last few drops
before they swirl away uncaught
to join the main stream
which is thought.

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I can feel it building, damming up in my head, ready to spill and thrill and destroy and, and, and… I was reading Bukowski today, probably not the best thing to be reading. He has a way of making a good day bad. Not the happiest of people but that is what makes him so compelling I think, here is somebody who has it worse than you, who can make your good day shit and you love him for it. Says something about you doesn’t it?

All these double letters in the middle of these words which are completely meaningless and what was I saying?

It happens sometimes, after a long period of no text, of a blank page and a full mind. It happens that all these thoughts build up and overflow into one-another. The girl I am fucking, the girl I used to fuck, the dog and her bad habits, the job I don’t have or the one I do. Till it becomes one big ball of dog-fuck-girl-job-fuck-etc. In my head and NOTHING makes any God Damned sense. She doesn’t like it when I say that; God Damn. It bothers her, as if God listened to me and would personally damn that which I condemn. As if I haven’t fallen out of His sight.

It’s spilling out of me now, into my fingertips and onto the page. A giant ball of damned thoughts and forgotten essays on the vulgarities of a meaningfully meaningless life. And if that makes any sense to you than you are worse off than I am and better for it too.

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Lost in memories you wonder why.

I do not. It is not for me these ponderings on past lives.

I do not question, it is for me merely to contend or to concede

If I must contend I will do so till my cause is won or I am beaten

I will be ruthless in my campaigns, pitiless in my press; if I am to carry the day I will do so without remorse.

I am not soft, my heart is not week, my soul is not lacking.

 

 

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“man came from nothing and to nothing he will return.”

I do not agree with that. We are born from love and passion, and we leave behind those who’s lives we’ve touched.

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I walked along the beach tonight, that defining edge between two worlds. Instead of feeling dwarfed by the hugeness of the ocean or the vastness of space with its myriad of stars which I could not name, instead of being made small by all this enormity, I felt like a giant, a colossus.

I felt the power of God and was not afraid for it was the same power he had given us, give to Man.

I am Man and Man has conquered both the sea and the land and one day space too will fall under our husbandry. And even if I had made a single misstep and fell to the currents and the larger predators of the sea Man would still prevail. I did not feel small, as I suppose I should have, instead I laughed, not in the face of God but with Him

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