Once Upon A Bike.

After I disposed willingly or not of everything I thought I needed?  I still had a bicycle.  As it turned-out; a bicycle proved all I needed.  All I wanted.  A simpler more practical way to live.  If I couldn’t move on my bicycle I had no need for whatever it was thought I might have needed.

It was once upon a bike I discovered living.  “A bicycle is either a child toy, a rich man’s folly or a poor man’s last resort.”  As a last resort a bicycle provided me a vacation for my life-time.  I would never play in that old game of life again realizing my struggle against a system designed to struggle was a fools journey.  My new journey will not include the four-wheel drive dollar driven world. I left capitalisms toxicity right where it belongs in life’s rear view mirror.

Once Upon A Bike.

Things just got simpler.  I dropped so-called friends and acquaintances like debt.  Once my more than comfortable home and needless possessions vanished along with my children so went all friends and family.  Like clock-work when your loose everything you loose everyone.  Seems it’s not until you have nothing to offer other than your company that you’ll find true friends.  Try it.  I promise you will see what friends are made of and learn never to make assumptions regarding anyone’s conceptualization of family. 

After countless back-stabbings even the most foolhardy throw in the towel.  The harsh realization that no one wants to hear the truth sets in.  Your children and family hide from the pain of truth.  Then truth dissolves into that life dissolved in lies too many choose as life.  Dizzied, desperate and penniless I finally crumbled to continuing back-stabbings and I threw in my truth-towel.

Having lived on both ends of income in-equality I guarantee you this.  Once you have nothing, no home, no money, no outside support it is impossible to claw your way out of this bottomless hole.  I have none of those old expenses car payment, house payment, no medical insurance or insurance of any kind.  Worked since 2009 six or seven days a week, plenty of over-time, no vacations other then my bicycle.

Once paycheck to paycheck always paycheck to paycheck.

There is no way back to that illusion of success so many of US fall prey to.  Once upon a bike I never got off.  The American Empire is crumbling before before our very eyes as Mother Nature prepares for her last at bat in defense of our planet.  Confirming my fears and contemplations from 1967 and answering life’s most important question for everyone, everyday.  Is this pace of life sustainable?

Once upon a bike I realized my childhood concerns were always legitimate.  Then Acid-Rain, Gipsie Moths and Vietnam perplexed me.  These question’s stay with me.  Why do so few men intentionally manufacture all the problems plaguing humanity and why do so few of US care?  Empathy, souls and convictions all at the brink of extinction as are we.

Once Upon A Bike Nature Encapsulates Your World.

Once Upon A Bike I Saw The Other Lights.

As I turned to my bike for survival everything became so simple and for once in all my decades I had only myself.  With the aftershock of materialisms grasp on my family behind me I found the simplicity of aloneness comforting.

Slowing down was welcome.  Living in a tent was wonderful.  I kept a tent-site maintained even after a roofs return.  I’d retreat to my tent often through those years.  If you find yourself in a tent for your home a Jet-Boil Camp Stove is the bees-knees.  It’s the duct-tape and Velcro of outdoor cooking.  I miss the simplicity and comradery of my tent.

Once Upon A Tent It Was Hard To Go Back.

That agrarian hunter-gatherer life is where we are rooted.  Capitalism put an end to living life as nature planned for us with it’s evolving Free Range Slavery.  Give them just enough perceived freedom along with plenty of debt to construct and believe in their own enslavement too debt as a form of democratic freedom.

We do live in a brainwashed world.  With brainwashed news 24-7-365 across countless mind-warping digital devices.  You’ve got a portable brainwasher in you hand or pocket 24-7-365.  As addicted consumers of this constant digital-drivel we pay for our own brainwashing; 24-7-365 all the while blindly enslaving ourselves to continual sources of mindless debt creation.  Just as planned.

Once Upon A Bike.  You Could?