REBLOG IF YOU WOULD MEET THEM AT THE AIRPORT GATE AND RUN AT EACH OTHER IN SLOW MOTION, ARMS WIDE OPEN WHILE “AT LAST” PLAYS OVER THE PA SYSTEM
Nothing brings me down more than paying utility bills. Nothing. Well almost nothing.
It’s a monthly reminder that I am tied to the grid and I’m not living the life. I am not hitchiking across Europe with my canvas backpack with my little digital camera and a can opener.
Almost every month I think I should delete all the social media sites and make a serious plan, build the motorcycle website I want to build and finish my book. Every month I don’t.
This month feels different. My bosses insanity went to far this week and I’ve lost my ability to tolerate his behavior. I am far to old to keep dealing with other peoples personality disorders.
The weather is great. It’s 67 degrees, and my motorcycle has a full tank as gas. My buddies called me Thursday night and wanted to meet me for a ride today. he hasn’t called. Fuck him. I’m going riding.
I’ve got to make some changes, and I’m not just talking about losing that annoying five pounds, or fixing my shin splints. I’m getting old and this is getting old.
Dreams. Other people live them. I might as well quit being scared of it and see what it is all about.