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Motorcycle

September 22nd, 2024

If you were to ask me who I were, identity-wise, I'd tell you two words: "chronically online."

I grew up playing Maplestory for eight hours a day after every schoolday. (I do in fact do shed tears when I hear the Maplestory OST, since it's quite frankly my childhood world.)

I grew up on video games. And, I still love them to death. Anime too. They were my saving grace back then.

But I'm older now. I get to be who I want to be. I don't have to let what I've done define me. I can live here in the now.

I posted a lot of art, pinup girls, and sexy paintings here before. Now I don't do that. I don't spend enough time on Twitter to find beautiful paintings or pieces of art.

And, I don't even masturbate anymore. Haven't even kept track of when's the last time I masturbated. I eat nicely, exercise nicely, and do everything I'm supposed to do.

Buying a Motorcycle

I'm a 130lbs soaking wet asian man. My glasses are a centimeter thick.

I don't look like I ride motorcycles at all. But, now that I'm old and twenty-four, somehow, I find the courage in me not to care.

I'll be buying a sexy Ninja 400 starter bike probably, and maybe down the line switch in for a cruiser to go road-tripping on.

Therapy Tomorrow

I start therapy tomorrow. A (nosy) coworker recommended it.

I think it'll be nice. It'll, it'll be something positive at least. It'll be something new.

I've been doing a lot of new things lately. Moving in with roommates. Moving to another state. Starting a new job. Meeting new people. Bantering with new people. Getting invited to new things. Seeing new skylines. The night sky a different shade. The weather getting chilly. A soft breeze that whips against my window. Motorcycles revving at two in the afternoon. Taking a nap on the floor.

The morning commute of well-paved asphalt. A tech worker on a scooter. The expressions of somebody tired. The expressions of somebody new. The city lights glimmering in an ocean of darkness. Ambulance sirens. Living up in a high apartment. Working off of a laptop. Seeing old friends. Drinking at a cozy bar. The comfort of a firm sofa. Coffee shop vibes. A dining table for display. Flowers put up. Eggs and sweets stowed in the fridge. The rapid typing of keyboards. The haggard stressed senior. The cicadas humming in the dark.

I... I still think about her. I miss her.

I feel lonely. I want to share these moments with someone, but I'm just not enough. It's unfortunate that's how things are.

But if you accept how things are, there will be a way forward. I accept.