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I bought a BIKE for a personal dream. One day when I am very old and when I can not walk anymore, it will be in my garage as a trophy of my memories. I met people who taught me something and have the same spirit and I met others that I’m glad I forgot. I got wet, I felt cold, And I felt warm, I was afraid, I fell, And I stand up, I even hurt myself, But also, I laughed out loud inside the helmet. I spoke a thousand times with myself. I sang and shouted with joy like a madman, And yes … sometimes I cried. I have seen wonderful places and lived unforgettable experiences. I often made curves that even Marc Marquez would be proud of; other times I made curves full of terror. I stopped a thousand times to see a landscape. I spoke with perfect strangers, and I forgot people I see every day. I went out with my demons inside and returned home with a feeling of absolute peace in my heart. I always thought how dangerous it is, knowing that the meaning of courage is to advance even feeling fear. Every time I go up to my machine I think about how wonderful it is. I stopped talking to those who do not understand, (they just do not understand) and I learned through gestures to communicate with other riders. I spent money that I did not have, giving up many things, but all these things are not worth even a moment about my BIKE It is not a means of transport or a piece of iron with wheels, it is the lost part of my soul and my spirit. And when someone says to me: “You have to sell the BIKE and you have to be a more serious person”, … I do not answer. I just swing my head and smile, Walking on, a BIKE….. only the person who loves them understands it. May my biker brothers & sisters be blessed & ride safe on their scoots And the adventure continues. .
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