Notions of a Bicycle

another from huntersdada's dada...........

The heat here in my present world is puzzling. I
have become stagnant like the dark air around me. My
parts are starting to emit a mix of strong odors. My
fresh red seems sharp and pungent. This scent is
mildly irritating, but in a pleasing sort of way. My
new black, some over-powering blend of musty
synthetics, is reminiscent of something familiar. I
am not sure what. That smell alerts a choking sense
deep within me and makes me want to cough. And motes
of sweet oils surround me.

My shoulders had been dislocated earlier; loosened out
of necessity. Now only this cramped darkness
surrounds me. Vibrations keep me guessing and alert.
Muffled thoughts and snatches of conversations come
and go. I am content to note everything.

Reflecting on my brief past while here in this void is
another way I have to occupy my mind for the moment.
I am somehow internally entertained by this discussion
in the dark. Questions began to form.

The others and I met and communicated briefly before
this journey began, but the rumors we conjured up
concerning our fates I found to be fanciful, plenteous
and not helpful at all. Some ideas were far-fetched.
Some were grandly absurd.

Certainty and useful knowledge eluded us all. Lots of
us were frightened, I could tell. Most were at first.
Some tried to hide it with bluster and false bravery.
A few sounded off like blatant simpering nitwits.

Those and their disquiet disturbed me for a time, but
then I found myself being drawn to the brave and
positive types. We mutually connected right away.
And I also found myself concurring with them on all
points and they with me. That encouraged me. I
discovered we few were the exception among the lot yet
I felt neither arrogance nor self-love in our midst.
This is a true thing. In all honesty I should say I
sensed no self-pity from any of the others. Only real
fears. Real curiosities. A realness of concerns,
doubts and wonders. All brothers, every sister each
gave a voice in turn, and as a group we contemplated
one after another as these issues arose.

We stood all night and our ideas flew. The place had
grown quiet after the objects with two sticks
disappeared. We felt free to huddle together and
picture to each other. At one point I thought.

I am simply looking forward. That portrayal entered
my mind first. A brother next to me agreed and
another not too far away nodded in silent accord. It
is what I am naturally capable of doing. I would have
stopped there, but a group of negative responses came
over me, compelling me to reason and justify, so I
continued.

It makes perfect sense to do so. About me I see an
order of a fashion. It denotes a purpose.

Several brothers agreed again.

I am not made for waste.

No you are not, they think.

I am not designed to be static. Look at my
construction. I have no doubt I am a moving wonder.
They nod silently.

A sister across the room whimpers. I stop and we
listen. An uneasy future is described. Qualms she
has are brought up. An absolute dismal cry for proof
of something that we have no answers for arises; yet
we can only stand and listen. No one disagrees or
argues, or comes to her aid. Not one soul offers
sympathy. I take it she is happy merely to complain
and complain she does. She is both elegant and
magnificent in her remonstration. We all have various
skills here. Some are apparent. Some must be
inherent, and hers is certainly that.

A brother, one I might describe as a cheap weakling if
I were faultfinding, took up her cry and added to it.
Several of my likes immediately pegged him as a
crossover, an odd aberration, yet we allowed him to
run with his thesis without judgements or harsh
discrimination. He enjoys his rights as we all do.
His greatest fears were abuse and abandonment. He
felt inadequate. I cannot relate to any of this at
all.

One brother, a small replica of myself, interrupted
him with glee. An impatience for life had a grip on
his small frame. All minds turned to him in unison as
he chortled and bragged and asserted his bright future
upon us. His feet were fatter than ours were and I
think it gave him lofty ideas. The places he would
go, the fearless daring he possessed, the mountains he
might climb; all this I understood, yet at the same
time his over-confidence and pretensions only sickened
me. His manner was somehow distasteful. The others
and I held our council and allowed him his swagger.
He was on about records he would surely break when
lights suddenly flickered on. The objects were back.

Alien noises filled the air. The objects moved about
hurriedly on their two sticks. That foreign language
once again overpowered our thoughts so we withdrew and
listened. In a short amount of time we were each
placed inside this darkness where I now rest. There
was no protest from the others or myself. There were
no good-byes. Efficiency reigned until the moment I
felt myself being carted upwards, hauled about, tossed
and set down again. A stillness for some moments,
then a loud rumbling roar proceeded all this vibration
I now endure. They both continue and as for me, I can
only anticipate from here on out.

I cannot explain this. Somehow I am able to reason.
This skill, this ability, this power - whatever it is,
it is expanding, and shapeless questions are now
beginning to taunt me. No, this has nothing to do
with my peers. I am unaffected by their theories and
beliefs. It's just something I feel the need to keep
inside until a time when I may express it better. It
has made me all curious but that determination alone
is satisfying for now.

I understand the objects too. At least I absorbed
more facts about them, yet it only brings to mind more
questions. I knew from the outset that they formed
me. I would not be here otherwise.

Now I should state here before I continue that I
clearly do not consider the imaginations from two of
our assembly as rational. One claimed we evolved -
the other that we made ourselves. Only facts are
meaningful to me.

But as a group most of us understood and accepted the
objects as our obvious makers. I am sure that is what
caused the majority to revere them, to hold a sense of
awe and wonder at their abilities, but I admit I am
presently having some suspicious thoughts with the
whole thing. It stems from the many deliberations
they themselves entertained, of which I have had time
to mull over and reconsider.

I recall purposeful ideas coming from them in the
beginning. Cogent steps, sensible plans, an
injunction set down, a command to be followed by all.
But interspersed among all this cohesion I now
visualize other ideas, separate and random thoughts,
confusing bursts of unrelated things that I first took
as untranslatable, and therefore above my limited
understanding. I now realize some of it was pure
nonsense and as a result I must confess it has shaken
me somewhat.

Understand that I do trust with absolute certainty
what information I have gathered so far. But these
unstable and puzzling things must be identified as
just that.

Some brief thoughts they carried I can only state as
cravings for other objects. I am at a loss what that
means exactly, yet it was a strong feeling in many of
these creatures. In some of them it seemed innocent;
to a few it came across as evil or malevolent. I know
it made me uncomfortable as I examined it.

I was much surprised to grasp feelings of hidden
hostilities. Petty annoyances. Complaints of things
I have yet to understand. I got a sense of rights
violated, but that has no meaning to me yet. There
were desires by some to have revenge on others, or be
above other objects in value or worth. It seemed to
give the things a keen pleasure to stay on this one.

A peculiar few dwelt on intakes of large amounts of
some sustenance. The theme was repetitive but
inexplicable.

Strangest yet was the over-all fact they each believed
they are different and special and original in all
their perceptions. I cannot explain any of their
reasoning, or justify why the objects would play in
such areas. I only touch on what they think. One
thing I have decided is that they are odd.

I should note some certainly seemed kind and gentle.
This gives me hope, for I have concluded I am meant
for the objects. I am to be a helper.

We have arrived. I hear murmuring from my kind. We
simply know.

Jostling again. Tossed about. A yell and a shout.
An object is in a hurry. It wants to be some other
place. It is impatient, uncaring. Six of us ride as
it pushes us to a place in its mind, anxious to be rid
of us. Two sticks labor as it thinks and guides us
along. It only wants to score. Another odd thing to
desire. There is much to learn about these objects.
A brother next to me agrees and we six smile in unity.
We are to be released.

Motion stops. I hear sliding, a thump and then a
sister is on her side. A brother follows. Another,
and .two more. And soon I am the last and lay atop us
all. The object takes a tool…no, a weapon, and it
cuts into my wrap. My world is flooded with light at
one end. Fresh cool air enters. I feel something
grasp my front foot. I am jerked forward, wrestled
and pulled. My shoulders rub against my inside world
and suddenly I am free from it. It lowers my third
leg and stands me roughly aside. My foot is out of
kilter with my shoulders and they swing loosely about
for a moment and then become stilled. Connections
have lost their tightness. One of my feet has gone
flat. My disarray doesn't bother the object at all,
nor does it bother me.

My Old World gets tossed aside and the thing quickly
cuts into my sister's. Light enters her cradle. She
is taken from it and set next to me. Her fears hit a
new high. I stand beside her and focus on the future
as before. This object works fast and without regard.
Are we that invisible?

As it stands the last of us up, we all notice another
object approach. This one has talent and kind tools
plus a well-rehearsed plan. The sister moans.

The first object prepares to leave. It isn't aware
that I know about the hidden weapon. It concealed it
deep inside a pocket near the top of one stick, and
attempts to conceal guilt from the other object by
distracting it with loud sounds and motions.
Deception; a feigned interest in the other's affairs -
I see this plainly and wonder why the kind one doesn't
notice. That one's full attention is on us. It
really isn't listening to the thief.

It is meticulous as it fastens and adjusts and
tightens. My shoulders are secure again. A hiss and
my foot is full and firm once more. It takes its time
with a strong liking for not only its task, but for
us. It has gained our respect. It is called Juan by
the other object.

Hmm. The Juan surprised me just now. A hostile wish
for the other to jump into a lake crossed his mind.
What is the significance of that, I wonder? Yes,
these things are very odd, indeed. I will enjoy
learning more about them. Bicycles are very curious,
and very aware.