A pause, followed by several rapid heartbeats.

I love the water,
But I'm a terrible swimmer.
When I was 8, I was almost swept out to sea by a riptide;
Or at least that's what it felt like,
As a scratched and clawed at the sand,
And slid backwards towards the sea.

I'm not afraid of water,
It's heights that get me.
There's no anxiety,
It's just when I get up there and all of sudden,
Zip. Guts in a not.
And I'm almost less safe on the descent,
Than if the fear hadn't struck.

Now bikes, traffic,
And the dark?
I'm old hand.
There is no fear there.
All the accidents that I've almost been in,
There's no trepidation:
Just concentration, the proper and precise maneuver,
And then a pause.

Followed by several rapid heartbeats.

Being Constructive

I've been commenting on some articles from Bikeportland recently, and of course it's about language. Here are my comments below, but I really enjoyed the article which you can read here.

David K May 25, 2011 at 2:27 pm

I've often heard that these types of language shifts be defined as "people-first" changes. Instead of "bicyclists," we say "people who bicycle" and in that way stress the similarity, not the difference.

I find that the phrase "people-first" is a succinct way of guiding authors in their writing, something we can all benefit from and remember easily.

David K May 25, 2011 at 2:57 pm

I actually really value "people who drive" and "people who choose multimodal transport." It seems like so often it's described as "bicyclists," "pedestrians," and "cars." Which does separate the active user of those vehicles from the mode of transport they have chosen.

In a sense, writing which puts the person first puts cyclists, pedestrians, and drivers of vehicles on the same level. I also think it's necessary to throw in more categories to these lists in which parallel structure plays a role. I've always like "people who choose multi-modal transport" as a fourth category which admits that some people choose different means of transportation at different times.

Fusters.

On the festering boil of anger that is my unfulfilled and probably spoiled career as a teacher which I am exceptionally talented but not employed.

I'm angry.

On the problematic intelligence which leaves me unique and incapable of love.

I'm sad.

On the survival of impact and disassociation that comes with having steel roll for thousands of miles and hundreds of miles with an inanimate object.

I'm conflicted.

I'm fast.

You don't who I am.
Sometimes, in the wee hours of the morning I can't restrain my simultaneous hubris
And disappointment.
I think my fascination with tandem bikes, is that
I don't know anyone who can keep up.
Does that mean I should slow down.
Be less who I am and want to be?
Am I who I am, running loose away from other people.
I think I'm a radical,
And sometimes I look in the mirror and think,
"When did I get so handsome?"
But most of the time I'm crippled with the fact that
I haven't be in love,
And I don't know anybody who's into it.
And by it I mean me,
Because, I suck at that part of life.
I hate the bed,
And nobody wants to look at classic cars,
Browse the vintage stores,
Read books,
Draw pictures,
Drink coffee,
Play cards,
Drink beer,
Make stuff,
Make boats,
Weld.

Oh, I'm just kidding.
Everybody wants to do that.
What's my problem (?).

Batman Wins Orbs With Joker Face

I was going to write this thing, where like it talked about all the girls I've had crushes on at once. 1998, 2005, 2009, 2010. It'd be cryptic and awesome in concept and fail in execution. So instead, I've chosen to just reference a thing I could've done and be famous in an alternate dimension, or perhaps fail horribly and alienate people, myself included.

In other news, I'm no apocolypticist. There is no singularity. People is just folk, there is no coming together.

The internet.

Work out.

Take note: I am not one to ignore my feelings of deep sadness. But also, I'm writing thing in just a pair of argyle socks in my boxers. I'm working out. I live in a basement. I'm trying to make myself a better person. It's hard. Sometimes I hate people really hard, and sometimes I have anxiety attacks, and sometimes it's for good reasons and sometimes it's not. I'm a person, I guess I discovered that in the last few years and it was weird. I used to think, maybe I was one of those observers from the Highlander TV series. I'm not. I thought I might be the narrator from the Sandlot. I'm not. I'm better. I'm a person who makes a difference in other peoples' lives and they make a difference in mine. I'm not happy sometimes. Sometimes I'm really alright. I'll tell you when I'm hate my job, if you ask. Now I'm going to listen to the mountain goats and work out till I sleep.