I remember being carried by the current and grabbing onto branches to keep me from being dragged away. Those branches cut and hurt my hands, scratched them all over. Each time I would snatch back my hand and nurse the wounds, yet I would continue to search for a different branch and stretch out to hold onto it. It was a cycle repeated and I thought I'd learned from it each time it happened.

Currents flow, time stops, a drop in the water.

A time to live in the moment.

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My beloved Roopy has been given away and now I have Silvio. Bigger, stronger, faster. Silvio hums and roars when I want it to. But with such power there comes consequences. This week I witnessed countless idiots on the road: one with a sandwich in one hand and the steering wheel in the other, head turned to look at the wrong side and then she surged into traffic without seeing me; one with a dark sedan, heading into the intersection on a red light and turning left despite the sign telling him not to; countless impatient, pig-headed fools weaving in and out of thick traffic; and then there are the ones who follow me so closely I imagine it's a dog sniffing the ass of a bitch in heat...

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Some part of me welcomes the changing of the leaves while the other part laments the end of summer. As golden leaves line the sidewalks and flutter towards the sewers, I imagine a life of anonymity, of hardship, of freedom, of loneliness. The sounds and smells will be different, but somewhere something will remain the same.

And then I hold onto the streetlamp and suddenly everything feels real.