So, I got a new bike, it was a 2007 Honda 919. Were you sharp enough to notice the 'was'? Yeah, I also got into a wreck with it. Gravel and curvy roads don't mix, I am ok, my knee is a little bloody but other than that I am good. My helmet and armored jacket saved me from some major damage and just might have saved my life. Both took a beating. I had on my boots and gloves as well. I was drug for a bit then thrown from my bike when it hit the curb, did one or 2 somersaults (not sure on the exact number). My insurance company determined that the bike was a total loss. Yeah, 5 days after getting her... I suppose some of you are like, yeah, that happened to me once, and others are probably calling me an idiot. There was no excessive speed involved, just gravel strewn across the road where trucks had been entering the main road from a construction site, the gravel (it was night) and the curve did me in.
There wasn't any need for medical care or anything, but what I wished I had known was about gap insurance (yeah, I didn't even know what that was). Apparently it covers that difference in what you pay for a new vehicle (in my case my Honda motorcycle) and the depreciation that happens when you drive that vehicle off the lot.
So... I'm out about $1000. I know you probably will think I'm a jerk for this, but if anyone feels like donating for my cause I'd be grateful. If you don't donate I'm ok with that too, but please keep visiting me on my site, I do love the hits. Those of you who know me personally know of the other thing I am going through as well, so you know how much every bit helps (See 'A fork in the road' for an idea). All that being said, if you feel like donating just click on that Pay Pal donation button to the right of this (you might have to scroll up just a little).
Oh, and yes, that was the bike (just below this post)... She sure did look good didn't she...
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sadness. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Eyes
In my head are swirling memories and thoughts, things that I cover up with my charisma and my freakishly large ego. People look at me and figure I am an ass hole or someone who is amazing to hang out with. Little do they know that in my head I harbor secrets that scare even me, the keeper of them. Secrets about how I feel about myself, secrets about what kind of person I see in the mirror when I open my eyes and actually look at myself...
Go ahead all of you who have read my blog and decided that I am someone you'd like to meet, tell me how wrong I am, or how I'm a good person, but you are not me, you don't really know what is in my head or what my eyes have seen. I write and tell you of the things I have done, of the death I have born witness to and of the death I have caused. I feel no shame for my actions, regret for some, but shame? No. For that I may burn in hell, and perhaps I deserve to, but fuck anyone who dares judge me.
When I look in the mirror I see the cold dark eyes that I use to mask my thoughts, or at other times I see those warm friendly eyes that belong to a handsome man who is a good father and a good provider. Regardless of those eyes, I know what lies behind them... Maybe I look at my eyes to make sure that they are opaque, that none of you (those who know me, or those who read my writing) will ever see even a glimpse of what lies behind them. I do not like looking into my eyes. It makes me sad to see what is behind them. I pull my slight of hand with those in my life so that they are focusing on the carefree unembarrassed fun individual I bring to them, as opposed to the monster or the hurt soul with all of it's cracks and wounds. A soul that is amazing to me because of the fact that it is even there at all.
My soul... My inner being, that is so flawed that I don't even know what to say. I can tell you all of this because I still do not lead on as to what is behind my eyes. I merely tell you the symptom of it all. So... My soul, it was once some marble statue created by God to be a beautiful form of man. What I have now is a cracked thing who's glory has long since passed. An unpolished broken and deformed version of what you have inside of yourself.
My soul is strong, yes, behind all those cracks and behind exactly how horrid it is, it still maintains its strength. It is like the scars on a shark. They were all wounds that have healed, and while the body is a disgusting mass of healed flesh the shark is more powerful because of its wounds. Each one of those brutal lacerations have taught it a lesson and it is where it's at because of them.
I am that shark. Judge me if you will, I may even deserve it, but I will always hold my head high, I will not ever let you in. As I said before, behind my eyes are things that can still make me cry, those things are only for me to see; even then they belong hidden away from all but the deepest chasms of my memory.
Go ahead all of you who have read my blog and decided that I am someone you'd like to meet, tell me how wrong I am, or how I'm a good person, but you are not me, you don't really know what is in my head or what my eyes have seen. I write and tell you of the things I have done, of the death I have born witness to and of the death I have caused. I feel no shame for my actions, regret for some, but shame? No. For that I may burn in hell, and perhaps I deserve to, but fuck anyone who dares judge me.
When I look in the mirror I see the cold dark eyes that I use to mask my thoughts, or at other times I see those warm friendly eyes that belong to a handsome man who is a good father and a good provider. Regardless of those eyes, I know what lies behind them... Maybe I look at my eyes to make sure that they are opaque, that none of you (those who know me, or those who read my writing) will ever see even a glimpse of what lies behind them. I do not like looking into my eyes. It makes me sad to see what is behind them. I pull my slight of hand with those in my life so that they are focusing on the carefree unembarrassed fun individual I bring to them, as opposed to the monster or the hurt soul with all of it's cracks and wounds. A soul that is amazing to me because of the fact that it is even there at all.
My soul... My inner being, that is so flawed that I don't even know what to say. I can tell you all of this because I still do not lead on as to what is behind my eyes. I merely tell you the symptom of it all. So... My soul, it was once some marble statue created by God to be a beautiful form of man. What I have now is a cracked thing who's glory has long since passed. An unpolished broken and deformed version of what you have inside of yourself.
My soul is strong, yes, behind all those cracks and behind exactly how horrid it is, it still maintains its strength. It is like the scars on a shark. They were all wounds that have healed, and while the body is a disgusting mass of healed flesh the shark is more powerful because of its wounds. Each one of those brutal lacerations have taught it a lesson and it is where it's at because of them.
I am that shark. Judge me if you will, I may even deserve it, but I will always hold my head high, I will not ever let you in. As I said before, behind my eyes are things that can still make me cry, those things are only for me to see; even then they belong hidden away from all but the deepest chasms of my memory.
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