winter birds

the chill was somehow negated by the presence of some good company. thursday doesn't sound that bad anymore.

it's new years eve. mom and pop are probably having a huge feast as i plunge myself into the depth of a bunch of monotonous words. meaningless banter which somehow i have to make them sound as if they actually make sense.

snowed in, no way to ride. it's hard to make sense of my being when i stop pedaling. i don't think many people get that. i feel at ease, at peace with who i am on the bike. because it's just me and my machine. when i stop, my machine stops too. we're truly one with each other, which no human relationship so far has come close, yet. maybe i'm too much of an idealist in that department. maybe someone just like me exists only in my head. or maybe i'm just looking for someone who truly gets it.

weekends are the only things i look forward to now.

+listening to: nothing