My Utopia

My dad and I went to the Hingham Dump yesterday or shall i say "Use Transport Center". (its a dump a fucking dump) Anyway, we pulled in, and my dad took 2 things out of the trunk. 2 bicycles. My pink Barbie Esq one when i was 8, and James' when he was 11. 1

  My old bike itself was like my first taste of freedom i was later to consume. The sweet taste of being able to go up to 15 miles an hour as opposed to 3 was amazing to me. I used that bike until i got a new one when i was 12. So the old one, needless to say, hasn't seen the sun in years. And it meant nothing to me, until my dad picked them up and and put them beside the dumpster ant that fucking dump. 2

  I saw it standing there and i just wanted to give it a hug. I wanted to say thank you to it for all the good memories. I wanted to promise it a home to a nice little girl that loved it just as much, perhaps more, than i did. But i couldn't. So a tear fell down my face and i saw images of James and me seeing the bikes for the first time and running up to them and taking them for a spin. And then, they were gone. James, Jessica and the bikes. All i saw was metal. 3

   Then i realized something important. Everything has a soul. Anything that has some significant meaning to you gets a soul. And time cant erase it. And though its inanimate, doesn't mean it wasn't loved. I will always look at that bike a symbol of my youth. I know my childhood is in a better place now.4