Steal This Title
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
  Farewell My Friend
As Dave Hughes would say, "I'm not happy"

This morning i was made aware that my bicycle had been forcibly removed from its home. I am upset by this misappropriation; as the bicycle and i had grown fond of each other. A great shared history stood with us. I never viewed our relationship as one of authoritian power but a mutual one in which both parties gained advantages.


I am sad because i feel as though i have let the bicycle down. I should have taken greater care. I kept it in good condition - repairs were carried out after the MVA - and i kept it secure. Obviously not secure enough. There are many bicycles on my street that are secured by a bike chain on the front of their respective houses. Upon purchasing a high quality chain we agreed that it could be kept in a similar position. Alas, security is an illusion.


Obviously there is a sense of victimisation. i dislike theft. Especially personal theft. Even personal theft from the wealthy (which i do not deem myself to be a part of - priviledged over the great majority of the world yes, but within the society i inhabit i am far from wealthy). Nevertheless, nothing hits home like personal experiences. They delude the mind and shape one's attitude to a great extent. i am trying to examine this instance not so personally, so that i do not guide my hatred derived from my personal loss (affect) toward the individual who stole (this would be unnecessary and pointless - it was to be done and has been) but rather toward the apparent social conditions that manifest theft.


I arrived home at 2am this morning and the bicycle was still happy in its humble home. However when i finally slept i had terrible dreams of the disembodiment of this wonderful creature, the cycle, and its disappearance. A bald man appeared in that very dream. The bicycle cried out to me in terror, but i was in a deep sleep - the message passed to me in a dream only.


Now it is gone. But a memory. I will keep its precious chain. A useless object, brazenly razored with a sufficient instrument. Go gently into the dark night oh brave steed. Let no one rule you...and perhaps in time you will find peace.

 
Comments:
Aww, you wost your wittle bike?

Well, you're just gonna have to go and confront that bully?
if you can find that bully.
 
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