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.
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