insomnia set in. i figured i'd take a bike ride to the bodega and pick up a beer -- beer knocks me out. walked outside to find a barren pole in place of where my bike used to be. fuck. it wasn't just a bike. it was a 10 speed ross, 30 years old, a gift. i love[d] that piece of metal. i keep telling myself "it was just a bike" but really i want to cry. badly.