1. Dear Drugs-Forum readers: We are a small non-profit that runs one of the most read drug information & addiction help websites in the world. We serve over 4 million readers per month, and have costs like all popular websites: servers, hosting, licenses and software. To protect our independence we do not run ads. We take no government funds. We run on donations which average $25. If everyone reading this would donate $5 then this fund raiser would be done in an hour. If Drugs-Forum is useful to you, take one minute to keep it online another year by donating whatever you can today. Donations are currently not sufficient to pay our bills and keep the site up. Your help is most welcome. Thank you.
    PLEASE HELP

Part the second, fit the many.

By DocBrock, May 8, 2012 | |
Rating:
2/5,
  1. DocBrock
    Bizarreness continues with an odd memory.
    It -cannot- be a real memory. It's physically possible, or it was.
    Subtle things.
    The bikes are right, well, mine is. Mines perfect, even down to fingerprints on the dial.
    The other bike is a BMW R100RT it's white, but not ex-police.
    I can't make out details, just blurry.
    The clothes are right, but I always wore a bike jacket, rock band T, scruffy, oily jeans and AirWairs, so no biggie.
    My hair was a lot longer at that time and was never tied back unless I was in the bowels of an engine, or getting my head close to watch the cut start on a lathe or mill.
    My grey stood out a lot more.
    I was thin as a rake, but had massive upper body strength from use of calipers whilst recovering from breaking ones knees in a most ungainly fashion. So the podge is wrong, the hair is wrong, the ability to inspect the bikes in that manner is wrong. The fuzzy BMW is wrong on many levels.
    For an instant, that stood as real memory, not some feasible construct. They normally show fraying much earlier. This was complicated.
    My bike was a perfect fit for only one month. Only that one month, then I blew the engine.
    Actually, it isn't perfect, even for that month. Damn close though.
    You missed the drainpipe for your calipers in your dream state.
    You missed the gearlever. Bent to three fifths of fuck and back. More or less hammered on. That narrows it to two weeks.
    I know the BMW owner was touring Germany, because that was when I wiped out. I remember thinking at the time, how nice it'd be to be on an overnight ferry, sipping a brew instead of stuck to the ground by a heffalump of a bike while many people just stare. Some point. Yes yes dear. My fucking legs hurt. Get this bike off me and pass me my fucking calipers.
    Amazing how standing up, having a smoke calms things.
    Wow. Clarity of that moment. Borrowing a 10mm ring spanner to get the gear lever something like usable.
    Bars, forks are both bent and twisted. Half a clutch lever missing. Found it. In my leg, where it was last time too. No pain memories! Handled removing lever with no fuss. I do recall removing it, but the pain from my knees overwhelmed it. I certainly wasn't the stoic bastard that time.
    Wow, recall cause of front end tucking in. Same as last fucking time, I felt it slide and like a twat, rolled off.
    Spent years riding loose. Went tense again last year, front end slide. Bollocksed shoulder, cracked humerus. Got told off by psyche nurse for not revealing massive head/curb impact on that one.
    Stacked again the following day. Different helmet, no impact damage.
    Ooh, remember getting massive bollocking from a nurse when she found out I'd had previous. Still didn't click with the helmet, yet presenting with concussion. Bloody obvious to look at me there was something brewing.
    Questioned right ribs breaking?
    Remember breaking the ribs. I fell. Drunk, stoned, whatever. I fell and hit a curb.
    Thought they were just either bruised, sprained, or at worse fractured. Nope. clean break.
    Seroquel brings odd thoughts and very odd memories back.

Comments

To make a comment simply sign up and become a member!