"Solitary Man"

Tas klusās nakts moments, kad esi tikai ar sevi, savām domām un klusumu... tas smacē.! ļoti! kā slēgta telpa, kurā visi tuvie ir ārpus tās un tu nezini kā izkļūt un kā kāds tev varētu palīdzet.. tu jūties viens.. itkā .. pat nav ar ko salīdzināt.. zinu ka šis ir kārtējais pārbaudijums.. nelīdzenums uz izaugs°mi.. uz citu Es.!

Bet vai tiesam.. vai tiesam tik daudz jau esmu nesis, ka tie pārbaudijumi sāk likties jau neiespējami... sāk plosīties tur, kur vienmēr grūtībās varēji glābties.. vai gremdēties atmiņās.. šis ieraksts, kā jau citi kas sekojuši... ir radīti no nulles.. no tukšuma, kas pārvēršas teikumos un nejēdzīgas rakstzīmēs kas veido teikumus kas nevienam neinteresē.. un varbūt pat tā r labi.. tā ir tikai mana iekšējā izlāde kas nevienam nav jāzin.. bet..

Vienmēr mūsos paliek tas bet, tā cerība, ja nu kāds.. ja nu kaut kur, slēpsies tā atbilde.. kādā cilvekā, notikumā vai dzīves situācijā.. mēs ta kā gaidam.. bet ko?
to kas nekad nenotiks... - Brīnumu?

Skumjā realitāte ir tāda, ka brīnumu nav.. ir tikai tevis iedomātā sapņu pasaule kurai tu tik ļoti centies ticēt, ka tā kļūst šķietama realitāte pēc kuras tu tiecies un alksti.. bet kura neeksistē.! līdz ar to tu sevi ieved kā divas realitātēs.. viena kura ir īsta, bet nevēlies atrasties.. otra - reāla kā ikdiena bet tik nepieņemama ka netici ka tā var notikt... pat nezinu loģiku šim visam.. vienkārsi dvēseles mūzika.. pulkstens sit trīs naktī un esi tikai tu ar savām domām un klusumu...! tas smacē.!

I'm here to stay!

Something takes a part of me.
Something lost and never seen.
Everytime I start to believe,
Something's raped and taken from me... from me.
Life's got to always be messing with me. (You wanna see the light)
Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I)


 ***


This time, taking it away
I've got a problem
With me getting in the way
Not by design
So I take my face and bash it into a mirror
I won't have to see the pain (pain, pain)

Anticipating all the fucked up feelings again!

Life Cycle..

                 Life is a river, that's what's granddad always used to say, a beginning an end and million different ways in between, he used the metaphor his hole life, following the path with least resistance, barrelling straight through the impossible, clear as air and black as night. But how matter what direction, or how it move, what it look like, the point according to granddad was it the river always move forward. What push him running like a rabbit until he was old and grey, the mystery what lays around the bank.

                 This days that mystery is hard to find the river is dirty, the sky cloudy, for many of us life is a great adventure, all it's beauty, all it's connections, funny thing is the river is never that far off, this is a story of the way back in, to the rush of moving forward, born from the earth, grown from the seeds of innovation, forged in the fire of industry, the earth most efficient machine creates it's most efficient animal, the bicycle, our novelty innovation.

                 Trails like the season come and go build on a foundation, with diversity, beauty, classic elegance, never quite repeating themselves, a morals made of beginning's and ending's, with a million different ways in between

                  Granddad was all about those connections, he had his hands in earth as much as he did machines, maybe that's why he understood both sides. Sure we till and cut, we reed and resolve, yeah we do great damage, but also capable with great good. After all, no matter how smart we think we are, we are just another part of the mystery, balance of bike ride, keep the pedals turning, forget everything accept right now and there is no place you cant ride, that's what granddad used to say.

               I once read that life is a act of suicide and its true, propably the only "creature" on the planet will know this. Mabye that's why we are so good at killing, it's going to die anyway. So we take some more but in the proces we kill others less identities, things like flow, joy, interaction, purpose, another way throught the world is lost, not by one particular person but by instinct, survival, the very chaos of life it's selve.

                 We spent hours thinking, designing, questioning, also you can spent a few seconds lost in one moment. No time to think, just reaction, focus, all the worry washed away by the rush.When it comes to trails, when the builder puts down the shovel and pick up the bike, when creation overwrites destruction ...well...that's living.

                I still remember my first bike, a perfect little banana series with big chopper handle bars and sparkling blue paint. Cruising down the sidewalk feeling big even i was only seven. In a second the world grow exponential, we found secret back alley, jumps they are whole four blocks away, race to the corner store as fast as we could, candies looking out of our pockets like stolen gold. With every ride, every new adventure the chrome would fade, the rush will creep under the pain, other kids will ride with newer bikes, my best friend Jimmy got a bmx he can jump with that thing like nobody's business. Then we find a trail and the world changed again. We find ourself deep in the forest, riding over routes , dropping in the puddle, through the rain. My parents promise me a bmx when i got a little bigger but for now the chopper will have to do. One day far gone in the woods my perfect little banana series broken too, the end of an age, i cried for a long time, even knew a new bike wasn't far away, this thing become a part of me...it still is. No matter how well we build tings, no matter how hard we love them, by everything else, for whatever reason there are forces the aim to take it all away.

                 It's only taken 200 years to get here, 200 years of innovation and invention, of not giving up. Complex by design, simple by nature, a bike is nothing more than cycles turning cycles, it's the human motor that makes it elegant. But no matter how far the bike is come, no matter how much you can already do, the pushing doesn't stop, we still haven't found the edge...

              One day the river meets the sea, and then it's not a river any more, it past throug the wheels of change, in a way of experience, story's, adventure. Then the ride stops, lost but not forever gone, for now as far we can tell, the cycle of life...well...it never ends.! 

/LifeCycles/