2013 summer time angst 1

A tourist stole my bike from my driveway, I assume it was a tourist because 90% of the population in this small little fake town of GLP are summer people, rich people, white people, stole my fucking bike for fun, now I didn't even use that bike to much, but now I can't ever again. Its the principle that matters, and now my bike is gone. My dad bought me that bike, not that I really care to much about his losses right now, but the bike is gone. I remember riding that bike to classes and work up at UCONN, till it lost my care left in the rain, but now the bike is gone. And I had to rip it from its chain as I ripped myself out of hidden depression and drug addiction that was college, it came home with me, and now its gone. No more rides to the beach or an accidental sprained ankle, no more no-handed transgressions for popo-ass escorts home, to more rides to a dreaded dishwasher fish cutting job that I sadly need back because I need something, I really do because I am, nothing...but the bike is gone. No more troubling changes of songs going up a hill or stupid cigarette rides of death, the bike is gone. You know that bike and I didn't have the best relationship, but its funny how I care a little bit more now thats its gone, is that how life works sometimes? Cause now I'll have to walk...