Return to Riding fast on drugs while getting good vibes from the twin plant (idea)

Nuts to [Ginsberg].

There is a [subculture] here.

We are like nothing [stereotypical]; we are the [rapid] riders; we are those who exist on the [interstice] of [sportsbike|sports] [bikers] and the [Z1|hairy crowd].

We [get off] on the [adrenaline], we have a [million tales] of [near misses] and we love to tell them, tell them [over and over].

We ride [inappropriate] bikes [to the limit]. Sometimes we [cross the line] and then the world comes up to hit us. Sometimes we just [cruise]. Sometimes it is [sunny] and [we are in love] when it is sunny. We ride all year round, through the ice and the snow and the rain; we would [disintegrate] if we were deprived of this [communion].

The bike is a way to [stop thinking]; like a [cortex jammer], it makes the world seem simple; like the great prophet [Newton] said unto the people, the universe is merely [bodies], [forces], [moments] and [moment arm]s. It is simple and we control it all; actually no. that is the lie that we tell ourselves. We tell ourselves that we are in control when actually at any moment a huge metal [death] may occur, and our kevlar and leather will not protect us then.

In knowing this we are [distant] from our selves, the [Id] and [ego] are switched off, the worries and aches and pains are forgotten. We have all fallen off before. We know it hurts, so we [go faster], knowing that the next time will not [hurt]. [Third time's the charm].

It is when you stop thinking, become [one with the machine] that we discover how truly [beautiful] we are; we proceed, we [make progress] and there is no purity greater, and no drug more powerful; the bike makes us [stop feeling] and [stop thinking] about ourselves, [cortex] jammed with 100mph-road-data-flow. It is the road, it is the curve, like [Robocop] your mind scans and plots, parabola after [parabola], you are as a curve in a [universe] of [sinusoidal] [attractor]s. The [oscillation] of [adrenaline] and [ecstatic] [neurotransmitters] hail through your [soul], your mind having quite washed away in the [torrent].

This is the [silence] that we all miss. This is the brief moment of peace. [Deep breath]

Then there's the [physicality]. You are in touch with your body and the body of the bike; with the power of a hundred horses, it is [prosthetic], a limb that allows you to [ballet] at two hundred kilometres per hour, and when you get there you sing as one, as you howl and plough [silently yet noisily], [operatic]ally and [erratically], your [carburettor]s mixing [oxymoron] and [petroleum] and your [entropy] [engine] propelling you.

Don't forget us when you vote for new road laws; we're too busy and too damaged being beautiful.

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