(recover a satirical de l'any 2005. Among els "bikers" sovint es fa diverses les marques Conya on bikes, that if the teva, that if the meva, semper a humorísitc tó Carinya i)
say that wisdom is like a Donzella, frail, shy, elusive ... not to be taken, but given her first ...
say that the path of the pursuit of wisdom, is similar to that of love and war, hunting also ... One must beating quietly, with a focus on straight all around us, so that the slightest hint, we are ready to reach the dam ...
thought so, and in this quest, as you know, I have spent long years of my life, and at the altar, sacrificed so many things ... until this morning ...
This morning, freezing cold (-4 °), with dyed white landscape with a thin layer of frost, with some roads and some tracks that looked like glass, all immersed in a thick layer of fog that as thin wetting rain, I went for a stroll with my horse "freedom" ... If I tachéis reckless, I know, pretty I had to listen at home, but not a strange omen dragged me take the bike and make a loop, aimlessly ...
I was attracted in particular a beautiful route from Collformic to Tagamanent, which I already spoke on Route Bloody III and of which I put a picture
Arriving at the village, as I was late, I took the road to return to home, but at the height of Santa Eugenia de Berguedà, tips of the fingers of his right hand to freezing have required me to make a stop for hot drink ... roadside bar there is the "Firefox" on the door a couple of tens of customs, you know, Harleis the quirky, Yamahas, Suzukis and some Aquila, common in this type of bar ...
The truth is that I have given a certain cut park my gesita among many Jierro, I was about to be on my way, but my fingers have given me a strict order ... For! ... I parked and I I headed out the door ... as I pulled the enduro helmet ... The sound muffled by the thick walls, blowing through the windows and door, audible from the outside ... "Hell ... Hell Wells Wells opened the door ...", the thunderous roar of AC / DC almost pulled me down ... inside a thick-type marabunta much more than I am, and muuuyyy hard, hairy, bearded, suck, leather pants and boots with fringes and without fringes, teeming, frothy beers, snacks uncertain oil oily ingredients, scarves on their heads Yankees, Confederate flags on T-shirts, tattoos thousand have beaten me with a violence that almost throws me the floor ... Hundreds, I say, thousands of head-well, maybe one or two-have turned to me, the intruder ... watching me with fierce hostility ... You can imagine the scene: standing in the open door behind me, dressed in Roman boots enduro protections in the knees, regalim mud, shivering with the cute ...
In my head I heard her screams "Get out now!, Do not you see I do not belong here!", Gathering all my arrest, I've taken the step to the inside, closing the door very gently. .. I desperately searched for an empty table and lonely in a corner and from there I have gone, leaving a visible trace of mud on the floor ... Hell
Wells! Wells Hell! now accompanied with grotesque all patadon and screams in devilish climax, which has the virtue of letting go unnoticed, but not quite, because after taking off my jacket, transom, snuff, purse, the lighter, the town has rolled across the table and crashed to the ground, with that awful sound broken egg, cronk!, which nobody has paid attention, fortunately!
Smoke in the water of Deep Purple has started to sound from the speakers, as he lit a cigarette, that little the time! the 1st day of January, is over ... it's over ... Been a few minutes, but no one has come to me I wanted, so avoiding human walls, passing on feet, legs and boots that seemed to never end, running out of breath because of an inadvertent boost? a wall of flesh and alcohol, I managed to get to the bar, where a waiter que por su apariencia no se diferenciaba de nada de su distinguida clientela, me ha preguntado que quería, un cortadito corto de leche, le he susurrado en un tono imposible de oir por el tumulto omnipresente, se lo he tenido que repetir... cuando me disponía a esperarme pacientemente algo retirado de la barra, mientras un par de orcos? se partían de risa llenando el ambiente de migas de pan, trozos de chistorra de un palmo de grueso y salivazos diversos que he tratado de eludir sin demasiado éxito...un metálico destello a cautivado integramente mi atención...
Mi cuello, como movido por un muelle me ha hecho girar la mirada en su dirección...Y allí estaba...allí estaba...
Bright, bright, wonderful picture that I can not erase from my retina while I live ...
... I was looking for the truth ... I was there .... in that den of hell, surrounded by that scrum that reminded me of the tragic Revelation, was there ... Could not be otherwise, was not also the serpent in the Garden of Eden?
A point I've been on bended knees and break to mourn, I could hear inside my head the biblical question: "Terraxaman, Terraxaman because you persecute me?" Hundreds, thousands, I say millions of thoughts have flocked, and at that time ... if at that moment ... the I understand, and a bleak repentance has taken over my soul ... Nitros
you who have been brutally persecuting me, you forgive me?, Roberto XT, where XT is your real name, and many others Joscoma Xtera, you can forgive me, to me that both you and slandered and defamed ... you, dear Pepepower, not today, when the wounds are too open, maybe tomorrow, or ten years, you forgive me? To you who insulted beyond measure, taken by my excessive desire for power, the arrogance that only ignorance can justify ... you'll be so magnanimous as to understand my madness ... if I could virtually get on my knees before you, rip their clothes and cut my long hair, which I most want-not the slightest doubt that you would ...
promise to mend, not ever, ever attack, to your saddles, although they are disguised as KLE, you know why? ...
Because today I saw the light, now I know to serve the XT, now I understand your stubbornness brand-and model, the unfailing devotion that you feel for your frames ... the blind admiration for YAMAHA word, I can even understand Rossi left the Honda, I understood everything in that fleeting / clarifier eternal moment ... the truth has been presented to me irrevocably:
With tearful eyes at the sudden excitement, a prisoner of unexpected rage in me, I have shouted at the waiter: "Stop, stop cutting, and lay a straw of draft beer and fanta lemon ... the waiter, making a protest Moines, but also of understanding has led to the Yamaha and I have broken one and a half of alcohol withdrawal ...
I can not say I like the beer ... the fanta lemon, mixed ...
But inside you have installed a great peace, now is to serve the Yamaha ....
Hehehe,,,
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