My stomach hurts. And my thighs feel unused. The blood is stagnant. My mind sees me racing on a bike through the streets here in Milton, it felt good to do so before, but there is nothing out there for me at this moment. It will come though, I do believe. There is still this bridge down in Oakville where I want to write, "The best lack all conviction, and the worst are filled with passionate intensity." It will have to be soon though. I have a white paint oil based marker... maybe I will have to buy some white acrylic to do the job, but I don't want to. I also want to be a bit drunk, but I can't, because I live in Milton... and I will be in wanting to drive. It takes only an hour and a bit to bike down, my legs itch for it, but the bike doesn't have lights. It seems like my mind silences my body for most of the time.
Well I could do it in Milton I suppose. That way I'll be able to just be and bike. I won't be able to put the saying back where I found it, but I will be able to make it legible for those to read it again. Why though? Why does it matter.
The best lack all conviction and
the Worst are filled with passionate intensity
There's just something about it.
Anyways, no more beer tonight. My bod's got some thirst above this.
Goodnight
