It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled
or where the doer of deeps could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena;
whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood;
who errs and comes short again and again…
who knows the great enthusiasms,
the great devotions,
and spends himself in a worthy cause;
who at the least knows in the end
the triumph of high achievement;
and who, at the worst,
if he fails, at least fails while daring gently,
so that his place shall never be
with those cold and timid souls
who know neither victory nor defeat.
~ Theodore Roosevelt ~
“The reflection of the rising sun on the handlebars is my alarm. My first cup of tea is miles away from my bed. I dont have a home. I carry my world with me. Boundaries have no meaning for me. I have no time to see the dust clouds in my mirror for the road ahead calls out to me. The wind is my partner. The sun is my compass. I dont stop in the rain, I sing with it. The evening birds match chords with my thump. The neon lights of the city become blurry lines as I enter the encroaching dark of the highway. The earth is my bed, the sky is my roof. I sleep to the music of the gurgling brook. I want no glory. I have no name. I dont have a begining, I dont have an end. I am a BIKENOMAD!”
– written by a fellow Nomad …
BIKENOMADS
First, u will be dying to finish your high school and start college.
And then u will be dying to finish college and start working.
Then u will be dying to marry and have children.
And then u will be dying for your children to grow old enough
so that u could go back to work.
But then you will be dying to retire.
And Then one day you will be dying.
Suddenly u will realize that u forgot to live.
Don’t let this happen to you.
Appreciate your present situation.
Enjoy each day.
