Changing directions again

6 years ago I bought my dream bike, I still remember seeing it the first time thinking if the guys selling it had told me it was orange I would have told him to go to hell, but the right music was playing and Three Days Grace "Animal I have become" played and Dads only words "that is one nice damn bike" I was in love.
Over those six years that bike took me to a new level, it would introduce me to the most comfortable ride I could ever experience, its rubber would grab the pavement as I carved canyon corners the rubber melting off the sides, it would stay rubber side down as I explored the roads in rain, ice, now and left over spring gravel on the best corners left on any canyon anywhere.
It would introduce me to the track and like the wild animal it was, leave me behind as I spun like a top wondering where my steed went, reminded of my younger days riding a horse, my my how steel and flesh could be the same.
But now, that ride gone, inspired as a child by Homers Odyssey travel is in my blood, and my desire to see the rest of the world inspires me more than anything else, so off it goes to a new stable and as I wipe a single tear the wind blows into my face, bringing with it the scents of the world, the laughter, the crying the horror and my nostrils breath deep the faint scent of fine spices in India, sand brushes my cheek and I just know it was carried over the vast ocean from the Sahara, but my next goal calls where the Spanish sought to tame, many fell but ultimately they would conquer, and so shall I.
I look forward to the next start of my life, For the past few years I saw the hooded man with a scythe ominous finger pointing. I only recently discovered the true meaning, it is change, as with the skull in south America a new birth, and so my life moves to the next phase, without common comforts my body shall endure and I shall finally touch those grounds that have called me for all of my life, just as other wanders, perhaps me in another life, have trod upon.
I hope the gods guide me, I hope Wodins single eye watches me and gives me strength, I hope Libras scale allows me to give the justice many deserve, Gia helps me teach others how to use the earth properly & reap her gifts for generations to come, , their talismans and Runes shall unlock my mind &I hope those I leave will get to share the journey of a lifetime.
I read once a phrase that so many of you have seen me use. I always post when someone dies, and hell, even when great changes beings I use this. I read in a another book that helped shape who I am today, Louis Lamoure's "The walking drum". That line gives me hope and lets me know that there is always one more road to travel, real or not it is who I am.
Yol Bolson
May there be a road

Suriving Walmart

I stopped at Walmart today to exchange some sweat pants, standing in line I soon realized the trouble I was in, before me were to Mongloids, drooling, fussing over their baby, they glanced over their shoulder at me and I quickly looked away, but my eyes drifted to a Troll walking by, club dragging behind him as he shuffled his feet.
A Zombie walked up and I knew he could smell I was living, I reached behind my back but my Zombie tool was not there, I was alone, left with a pair of oversized sweat pants, car keys, and quick thinking. Another zombie came up, they drooled, the mongloids grunted and drooled, they all seemed to communicate as their gaze drifted to me.
My mouth went dry, I knew I was cornered, there was no escape, my mind raced with responses, and first was the usual Montana response "Looks like it might rain" DOH! that will not work, quick, think, think, wait, don't think, that is the key, so I spoke quickly and surely in their language "Uhhh, uhhh, UHHHH" spittle ran down my chin. It seemed to work, they grunted back and their empty gaze shifted away from me.
The Mongloid baby was glaring at me, its innocents may not have been fooled by my speech, maybe my dialect was wrong ? I could not be sure, but it looked with coal black eyes, its teeth sharp and I was reminded of chucky, my mind raced and I so wanted to scream "Throw it a rat, feed the beast" but I kept calm and tried to keep focused on the cashier.
Only one, that just did not make sense, with the sound of feet and clubs dragging around me I knew it must be a trap. Only having one cashier in a a situation like this was like Vampires having a blood drive, my time was short here, I had to keep the act up to survive.
A blonde came up behind me, her deep blue eyes suggested she was living, I wanted to speak to her but I noticed the Zombies merely shuffled by her, she was safe, safe by her natural hair color and empty headed nature, there was no brain to eat here and the knew it.
"Next" came the humanoid voice, and I shuffled up dragging my foot, not wanting to give myself away.
She spoke "What U want"
"Pants no Fit" I responded "need refund" I replied.
She looked, still seemed somewhat normal but I was not fooled, I would not be brought in, it was a test, I know it.
She handed me the money, and I instantly turned and dodged thru the Mindless Hoard, their eyes more fixated on the shelves than me.
I rushed out the door and Tires squeeled as a bumper stopped just short of my leg, inside the car a woman sat, her eyes wide with terror, I waved, thankful she was human and she yelled "GEt out of the fucking way there is a sale"
I hurried away, knowing better than to confront that one, zombies were deadly but a woman being stopped from going to a sale was like trying ot keep a hippo from getting to water.