self imposed exile...

Much like quitting your job,
then realized,
it's not gonna' get any better.
It's another version of the same.

At the heart of "it",
I think I tried to shed the identity of "being a cyclist".
I spent a month borrowing the car to go to work.
Even the camera took some time off.
Painted.
Visited the skate shop, not the bike shop.
Drove to the galleries,
and realized it takes twenty more minutes to find a parking spot,
than to ride my bike there.

Blew off the yearly charity ride,
that has been a staple for the last four years.

MAYBE YOU ALWAYS RODE.
YOU NEVER GAVE UP THE BIKE.

MOST OF US GAVE UP THE BIKE.
Then "rediscovered" it.
Then gave it up again.
And picked it back up again.
The neglected girlfriend that will always take you back.

Everything's OK, right?