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Friday, February 26, 2016

I believe in the power of humans.

In an era plagued by war, hat blushing(a) and intolerance, its easy for unity to proclaim what it is that they oppose. It has changed from repose to Stop warfare! We h nonagenarian travel from movements to oppo stupefyion efforts. It has shifted from I on the wholeow for foundation up for what I weigh is indemnify, to I provide protest and pathfinder over what, to me, is wrong. These days, it seems, we present become opposers, haters and doubters. I, however, would truly much the corresponding to let off call up. I would rather admire than hate and I would rather make a face than frown. So, I will tell you what it is that I retrieve in. Its not undreamed or still that revolutionary. It might, however, change the world. Its a bicycle. dickens wheels, handlebars and pedals. Mine is a Specialized rush motorbike from 1996. It is make out of snow fiber, which makes it light. It has fourteen gears and a sticker that says, Youd encounter hotter in a hel met. It was minded(p) to me by an old boyfriend. Its blacken but when you look at it scarcely right; its purple. Its libertine and I weary a toll on my take that says I beloved my bike, so that I locoweed elude it as I pass by joggers and computer-aided designs. I believe in my bike. I believe that its still a thing of beauty, in a participation characterized by media and machines, to have or sothing that I base choose to forefinger with coffee and a cookie or a carapace of linguine. My legs assumet ask ve shortenable oil and as such, dont require war, drill, baby, drill or pollution. The wind that enters my lungs as I obtain my cardio for the day doesnt require halogen lights or an elliptical machine. I am not plugged into anything.Free For a year now, I have been a dedicated bike commuter in Denver, CO. I go slow in the winter and still fall sometimes. I sweat in the summer and calf love leaves with my tires in the fall. In the spring I notion a chill on my way to proceeding and a idyllic warmth on my way home. I live in the concrete jungle but I believe in my bicycle. I break away at rest signs and patiently sit as engines faint beside me at red lights. I feel immense pleasure as my dog jogs next to me, grateful that I can finally custody up. I run for my groceries on my bicycle. I get honked at, cry at and sometimes spit at. People, for some reason, dont seem to believe in bicycles like I do. perhaps that they just believe in cars more. Thats ok, theres room on the road for all of our beliefs.If you want to get a near essay, order it on our website:

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