Sunday, January 12, 2014

Throttling My Life

It is on my motorcycle I have learned to live and if I'm lucky, it is on my motorcycle I hope to die.

Behind my handlebars, pulling my throttle to it's limits, within my leather jacket, I feel my heart pound and within my helmet I hear the rattlings of truth. I've found the road doesn't lie to me, anymore than a flower pretends to be a pine tree or the sun pretends to be the moon. The road is part of the Universe and dishonesty is non-existent in nature. It has no reason to lie, because it is natural and true. Not to be loved or accepted. Nature has no desire to be loved; it only is, and that's good enough.

I'm the one that has to die when it's time for me to die, so let me live my life, the way I want to. ~ Jimi Hendrix

Perhaps others will judge me for my belief in this, but I feel confident in saying I've done enough for society for now. I've given myself enough to satisfy my own criteria I've set and I've now reached a point where I want to give to myself. This is not a repayment issue; no one owes me a mother fucking thing. I expect nothing from anyone. All I've decided is that I don't owe any of you anything either.

My life is now my own. I will live for me, at my choosing, by my own agenda. You are free to do the same. Hold in your hearts that I will move forward grasping the notion that I owe nothing to you. Your guilt and expectations are meaningless and powerless going forward. I suggest you take that seriously as to prevent any disillusions. Regardless, I choose to no longer make your issues my issues.

I am ready to choose how I live and choose how I die. In that regard, it seems to me that when I decide then I will slam into the block wall at 100 mph on the bridge or overpass of my choosing. I will do this when I feel it is time and I will do this selfishly and without any consideration of you and your desires. Because I am taking ownership and complete control of my life . . . and my death.

This choice is not one of revenge or anger, it is made to bring a sense of ownership to my existence.

I have worked harder than most of self help, therapy, introspection and recovery in hopes of finding some solace. But the pain of my past plagues me beyond all reason. There are times that it becomes unbearable. Until now I've struggled through, powered through for others, in hopes that one day it would subside. That day hasn't come and I'm growing wearily discouraged. If this is my lot in life, to battle this depression forever, to be terrorized by nightmares night after night, to feel physical pain as a result of the muscle memory from my abuse, to ache relentlessly in my heart, then I am not much longer for this world. I'm at the end of my rope.

Don't give me this shit that it gets better, that it is only temporary, because I know that. I also know it comes again, when I'm at my weakest, and it pounces on me like a starving tiger to devour my love of life. Fuck that. I'm done trying to outrun it, mask it, and sadly, endure it.

Knowing that one day I can choose to end it brings me a solace of unequaled measure. One can only take so much.

Tonight I nearly took my life behind the chrome handlebars of my sweet machine. With the throttle maxed, open highway, and tears streaming from my haunting past and lingering, tortuous pain, I simply couldn't outride my own demons. Tonight I survived. One ride I may not.

None of you suffer this with me. This isn't your life, you don't know my pain, nor is it your responsibility to help me. I will choose my path and take responsibility for such choices. It is no one's problem but my own.

Live your life and I'll live mine; at the speed, on the road, and into the concrete wall of my choosing.


  1. For what it's worth, here's something I've been thinking about a lot lately:

    (He goes on for a good 15 minutes)


About Sash

People call me "Sash" because I'm a former beauty queen in my old home town. My father used to ride in an MC which got me interested in the culture. After my last divorce I said "goodbye" to Susie Homemaker and became the naughty, biker chick I always felt inside. (Read more...)