oneirogen

So the weather did not hold and I did not get any miles in on my beloved bike. So I am a bit edgy and feeling some what out of sorts. The snow came in like a fucking nightmare last night. Standing there on duty in white out conditions not able to see with fantasies of something coming out of the snow, to late for us to see and stop it.
Now everything is white and cold. I like it but the desire to ride is overwhelming. I want to be on my bike in the moutains, legs and lungs burning, feeling that freedom, music pumping through me, exercising these demons. Finding those places I haven't been, those places inside, going beyond limits. The solitude and the beautiful suffering. That suffering is the path I like to take. But the white and cold world limits me, so I sulk, bitter.

"Often during these years of fury, hunger, and unrest, when he was trying to read all the books and know all the people, he would live for days, and even for weeks, in a world of such mad and savage concentration, such terrific energy, that time would pass by him incredibly, while he tried to eat and drink the earth, stare his way through walls of solid masonry into the secret lives of men, until he had made the substance of all life his own."