you have to look after you (because no one'll do it for you)...

the rain's hitting my face through the open visor of my helmet as i ride off down Wanneroo Road, heading for home. i'm 20km/h over the limit. 30. the bike's barely awake under me, engine loping along as i cruise through suburbia. i've just done my Good Deed for the Day - gone to help someone who needed it. i don't owe him anything, but it was the Right Thing To Do. i should feel good right now... that self-satisfied feeling of knowing you did the Right Thing for the Right Reasons, but i don't. i'm not sure if i feel anything at all. i know, academically, that the air is fresh and clean, but it doesn't buoy my soul like i know it should. i know, logically, that i'm passing the cars around me, but i'm not noticing them as they fall behind me. if i check my memory i know that i indicated, changed lanes and overtook, but it doesn't feel like it was me who did it. there's music in my ears - i know this to be true. i can hear every word Scroobius Pip says, but i'm not comprehending. i'm insulated, floating in a muted ocean of mental fatigue, gliding frictionless over a featureless bottom of anger, and i'm not sure if i can feel anything at all. just the pinpricks of the rain hitting my face, evaporating almost before they've landed.

i hit Ocean Reef Road and catch a lucky green on the Freeway onramp, hang off for a fast-left, fire through it, and let the bike wake up a bit. i'm hitting a dollar-fifty before i've even thought about it before dropping back to a gentle dollar-twenty cruise for the 30km run to the city, meanwhile i'm sixteen days ago and 3472km away, standing on a beach near Cape Tribulation with a pretty girl under my arm. then, i didn't have a care in the world. 

now, i just don't care.

the job i took back in February, i still have. it's been touch and go a lot of the time but every time i've felt like i was ready to pull the pin, toss the grenade and walk away from the impending explosion i've held fire for one reason or another. i've been holding off, for the most part, because i want to have a job with some longevity on my CV. a career of short roles is starting to look bad, despite the solid and steady progression. it helps that my staff have been, for the most part, brilliant. a pleasure to work with. a reason to get up and go to work in the morning. unfortunately the joy ends there and i'm getting sick of being the umbrella that holds off the shitstorm of abuse from above. i can keep it up for a while yet, but how much longer remains to be seen.

i'm 2 weeks ago, enjoying One More Day in the warmth of the Sunshine before heading to Cairns Airport and saying goodbye.
i'm 4 weeks ago, spending my evenings talking online with someone i met only briefly, but who wants to know me better. 
i'm 17 months ago, arriving in Perth after 3 days of driving with Shadow across the country to be greeted with tears and kisses.
i'm 2 years ago standing outside Canberra Airport, feeling like i'm Home for the first time in forever.

chasing a feeling, more than a place. a need to feel something beyond numb and angry, weary and betrayed. to feel like i'm in control again, however transitory and self-delusional it might be. soon i'll make my move - when the stars align and the way forward is clear. in the meantime i'll be making my plans and watching the signs, waiting until the time's right to set myself Free again...

happiness is a warm exhaust...

and once again, i'm carless. no more driving around with the roof off, stereo blazing, getting sunburned. no more taxi service. then again, no more rego, no more bills, no more upgrades, no second mouth to fill with petrol. it's headed for the Tender Loving Care of The Boy who has assured me that he'll take all due care of it. it's possible that the car's departure could have come at a worse time, being as it's winter and my knee is still being cantankerous, but then that's how these things happen some times.

i got back on the bike last wednesday and spent the rest of the working week forcing my right leg to bend up onto the peg and operate my rear-brake, and apart from occasionally having to let my leg dangle while i rode until the stabbing pain subsided things were all good. by tuesday of this week i was starting to be able to grip with my knees so that my weight wasn't on my wrists anymore. then, of course, on tuesday night i twisted my knee again, the night before my car was put on a truck which will take it to the other side of the country.

while i stood in the car park of the depot waiting for the guy inspected the car, taking note of all scratches and dings, i had some major pangs of regret - the time, the effort, etc etc etc, the joy of driving the damn thing. when Shadow drove me away and back to work i felt a little lost and empty. fast-forward 30 hours and i was in the middle of one of the most major highs i've had in months. it didn't take long before i forgot how i managed to live for 3 years without the joys of car ownership. sure, i borrowed them here and there when i really needed 4 wheels but that was exceptionally rare. suddenly the lack of car meant that a trip to the supermarket meant... well, riding and before i knew it i was hammering down the night-time streets of belconnen in a pair of jeans, hoodie, helmet and gloves and it was magic. the cold, pre-winter air was brisk, not freezing, and for a brief moment i was That Guy You've All Seen Before, screaming through the night in not-enough protective gear. i forgot about my knee aching and hung off around the bend while passing that hotted up Commodore on the outside, before buzzing the P-plater who tried to play silly-buggers in front of me.

unfortunately, one way or another, the car had to go. it's something i can live without, and it's something which would do me no good rotting in someone's lockup or garage for however long i'm Abroad. i still haven't decided what i'm going to do with my bike. if someone taps me on the shoulder and offers me ~$4000 for the thing and can stand to wait until October for it then i guess i'll sell it. otherwise i've been quietly scouting secure locations where i can stash it. the car, on the other hand... well, i can always get another car when i get back (maybe one of those nice 3-litre Subaru Liberty's that came out a couple of years ago...), The Boy needs one now and i need the money he's sending me for it. suddenly we have a match made in heaven... or hell as our mother seems to think it's going to be. she seems to think it's going to be overpowered for the poor lad. it may be, but that's between him and the gods.

meanwhile, i get to hold my head up high again and pronounce loudly "what are you talking about? i don't even own a car! riding through winter isn't too cold you fucking pussy, grow a pair!"... or something like that. more likely i'll just laugh. slowly, but surely, i'm finding myself with less and less stuff, and less and less interest in its acquisition. i've tried to do some retail therapy, and wind up buying more stuff for other people than i do for myself. i can't seem to find anything that i want... isn't that strange? sure, i'm going to miss the car. still, arriving at work in the car was never as life-affirming as carefully unfolding myself off the bike and having a chuckle as i work the stiffness out of my leg while i limp into the office.

it's not the loss of the car that's hitting me, though. it's more that it's a big, obvious giveaway that i'm Going Away Soon. it makes it all seem intensely Real in a way that buying the tickets didn't. this makes it feel like i'm leaving in the next week, not 5 months from now. i'm doing what i can to not think about the Future right now, for the fear that it'll get in the way of my enjoying the Now. i still have plenty to pack into the coming months and worrying about October will just get in the way so i'm just going to put it down right there.

too fast just isn't fast enough...

every once in a while, when i'm left with a quiet moment in my own mind, where i find that i have a doubt. most recently it's been from my riding. i ride a motorcycle. it's big and fast and a few years old now which dates it back around the time when design philosophy dictated that fast bikes HAD to be big - before manufacturers worked out how to make fast small. it's not the prettiest bike, but it's mine and i love it like i've loved most of my girlfriends over the years (which means, more or less, that i service it as regularly as clockwork, but generally mistreat it otherwise).

the problem here is that after a few years of riding i'm getting pretty good at it, and by good i mean fast. this is what i do: i develop an interest in an activity, be it motorcycle riding, or martial arts, or 2142 Battlefield, and after a little while i find myself pushing myself to get better and better at it. i'm not particularly competitive. not with other people, anyway. what i do is i push myself to be better at it than i was yesterday and on a bike my metric is speed. how fast can i go around that corner? how low can i make it lean? how much of my tyres am i actually using? in management circles this is referred to "continuous improvement" and "benchmarking".

now i'm starting to wonder if i'm taking this just a little bit too far. my new job has a 23 kilometre commute. i'm making it in around 23 minutes which means that i'm averaging 60kph, including a 4km section which slows to 40kph or less. i'm finding that i don't have to slow down for... oh, corners, other road users, traffic jams... that sort of thing, and somehow i don't feel like i'm going fast anymore. when 120kph through suburbia DOESN'T FEEL FAST ANYMORE there has to be something wrong. it's little things - i don't need as much of a gap between the cars for me to make a pass. passing between two cars on a dual-carriageway just... you know, doesn't have the feeling of danger to it that once it did.

i actually scared myself when i was out for a blat a couple of weeks ago. not because i did something which made me fear for my safety, but because what i'd been doing HADN'T. motorcycles are inherently dangerous creatures. you're more vulnerable to start with, which raises the stakes, but when your rear tyre sliding out when going around a corner doesn't raise your heart-rate anymore, or when you barely think twice about lane-splitting at license-revoking speeds... let's just say that i'm starting to wonder how much further i'm going to wind up taking this.

it actually makes me glad that i have an older bike - for a not insurmountable quantity of money i could have myself one of the last year or so's models which tend to be 20 kilo's lighter and 30BHP more powerful... but then i'd wind up learning how to use all that extra power and find myself going faster and harder than before and into the territory where death isn't just a possibility, it's inevitable.

maybe it's a good thing that the likelihood of my going near motorcycles while abroad is fairly low. it'll give me a break to reassess my life and how long i actually want it to be because, and i'm being completely sober and serious here: if i fuck up out there with the way i'm riding at the moment then i am going to fucking die. jokes about 9 lives and my seeming invulnerability to date, i'm getting to my own ragged edge and the abyss is currently staring straight back at me.

i'm going to need to slow down. i just have no idea how this is to be accomplished because once i'm out of the driveway i'm not thinking about taking it easy. i'm not thinking at all. anything less than 100% concentration and i get bored and stop paying any. with that level of focus i'm not thinking about threats because i've already reacted to them, and now i've gone and convinced myself that faster is safer there's no bloody hope.

i never worry when i'm out there. it's only after i've stopped and reflected on it. this is, i'm afraid, not a behavior-changing thought process...