I'm out here living the dream. Slaying the trails. Eating the miles. Kicking a$$ and taking names.
But I can't.
The dream feels like a cage.
I'm trailing the snails.
Meeting the ills.
Licking a$$ and stacking blame.
I haven't ridden since I got back from Camp Curveball.
This is the best way to illustrate my current state:
The malaise has compounded.
I don't want to ride.
I don't want to do anything.
But I definitely don't want to languish and waste away.
So I'll ride tonight.
Not joyfully.
Desperately.
Pleadingly.
Defeatedly.
Still, could be worse....
At least I don't have gears on my bike.
But I can't.
The dream feels like a cage.
I'm trailing the snails.
Meeting the ills.
Licking a$$ and stacking blame.
I haven't ridden since I got back from Camp Curveball.
This is the best way to illustrate my current state:
The malaise has compounded.
I don't want to ride.
I don't want to do anything.
But I definitely don't want to languish and waste away.
So I'll ride tonight.
Not joyfully.
Desperately.
Pleadingly.
Defeatedly.
Still, could be worse....
At least I don't have gears on my bike.