The moon looked like god had run out of toilet paper and had settled for a river rock. He flew through the streets with the darkness of the night burning inside him. The same dark thought circled through his mind: this place was hell. He swerved around a slow moving truck, taking a blast of exhaust fumes in his face. He had deserved it all. Why had he rebelled against his own better judgment? Why had he cast himself from a paradise? I guess he knew deep down that it really wasn’t a paradise; it was a lie. The streets had been perfectly paved, the plants had been placed too orderly as if by the hand of some benevolent god, but he knew it was just taxes and death. The fear of death and prospect of life had motivated those people to pay into the Ponzi-scheme. Here it was different. True living could only be had in the presence of adverse conditions. Different parts of his mind believed in different truths, morals, values and there was a constant conflict played out in his mind between his different beliefs. His mind had become a war torn battlefield with the commanders enjoying delicate truths in their safe bunkers of solitude, while the foot soldiers of reasons killed one another with guns and shovels.
He banked hard left and went down a street devoid of direction, his headlight flashing on and off with the bumps of the road. It must have been bad wiring. He was lacking the connectivity he needed to light his way.
What was there left to believe in when everyone was a liar, even himself. He whizzed by a dead rat and wondered who was going to eat that.
He burst out onto a busy road. The confusion of lights, horns and emotions were a relief from the chaos of his mind. He concentrated on moving with and through the masses of helmeted fish and steel whales that congested the streets. He was part of them and against them at the same time, like a bee that had decided to go against the wishes of the queen, but didn’t know what to do with such freedoms just yet. He was running out of reasons and the troops of his mind where fatigued and starving, beginning to understand the short-sightedness of their commanders. There were talks of peace and of nuclear war.
He accelerated unto the highway. That long flat stretch of speed, blackness and tar. His mind was screaming with his past decisions, indecision and the decisions yet to come. Suddenly the world got very light, the clouds parted over the trenches and clear crisp light leaked unto the stunned squinting infantry. He felt he was floating, levitating over his bike. His brain bounced to the back of his skull as it slid away from the mess it had made at the front. He had finally found some peace slumped next to a pair of thick tread tires.