I've had my beloved scooter for about a month. One of my partners had initially said it was going to become my entire personality. They were correct; however, their correctness in this matter does not distract from the fact that, with much effort and suffering, I have relearned much of my previous motorcycling skills. I am a queer scooterist and moped enthusiast, but my first choice was a van, as I had planned to live in it and travel the continent, as nomads do. Despit that, I elected for a much more intimate option with which to see the world, as I am exposed to the elements. This is grand.
I named my scooter Horse. I grew up with horses. I could even be reasonably referred to as a horse girl, seeing as I have one currently, albeit a fiberglass and aluminum construct. Either or, I may one day gather up my barest essentials, a tent and sleeping bag, and some gumption. Upon the assembly of this protagonist kit, I might just take a notion to ride off into the sunset. After all, that's what horses are known for, right? Surely, this harebrained scheme of mine, haphazard and ramshackle though it may be, will succeed. Sure, it may be solipsistic to label myself as the main character, but how else will I cope with the constant disassociation from the dreadful reality of... well, reality?
I, the lonesome heroine, will sit astride my horse and gallivant and bandy and carouse as heroines do. A saloon with insufficient doors and haggard ranch hands awaits me. Well, that and a whole lot of Big Papa Pickles™.
theartofmadeline
kianamaiart
annaxmalina
pixelskylines
jacobvanloon
