I love my motorcycle, but since my accident I just am so overcome with fear any time I ride that it impacts my ability to ride and just ends up being a detriment to my ego that much more.
I adore riding, all of it… but I just feel so defeated.
I know all I can do is get back in the saddle, practice, and not let the fear get to me or give up, just proving really fucking hard.
That horrible moment when almost half a year goes by without updating the blog, really am not sure how I managed that one.
I don’t want to come off as pretentious, condescending, or antediluvian.
I am still my fatuous self; my fastidious speech at the moment in my epistle may seem obscure, but I am working on my vocabulary for the SAT.
Forgive me in advance should this come off as gaffe and possibly aberration.
Don’t want a polemical, though it’s becoming an obsession.
I wish to be adroit avoiding any err, so I guess in short, I shall refuse reticent retorts and instead pontificate.
If you should become bristle because I might seem esoteric, just give me a portent and I will obviate from my hyperbolic speech and back to my rife, affable nature and ruminate of when to demur from this omniscient, onerous, loft, loquacious way.
If you should permit me to be candid with you, this is slowly becoming inadvertent and despondent, as I am tyro.
Yet, I feel like a savant, and a tad inscrutable.
Though.. this may be verbosity, I’m in a furrow, but ever so complacent.
However, I digress.
I made a Pinterest for a friend.
I loathe it.
Considering seeing if I can get myself banned.