Someone today commented to me that the post I made about my ride into work last Friday morning was mildly pornographic.
I asked her why, and she said it "just felt like I was reading a boudoir memoir...".
I went back and re-read it with that thought in mind, and I guess I see it, but, frankly, I still remember the passion and excitement that I felt while riding that. Interestingly, those two words are used a lot in the adult industry, so, I guess, even now, I am admitting that she is right, again.
But, what I wanted to convey was the sense of wonder, and and the sense of observing, while living. I think that for intense moments like I experienced cannot be described with enough words that someone who has never "been there, done that" can relate to.
I once listened to a man describe what it was like to be in a firefight. During the, I don't know, hour, at least that he spoke, I sat silently listening. He had details, and moments, but he also had spaces of quiet, where, when you looked into his eyes, he was seeing things again, and yet never spoke about them. Sometimes, he would nod and begin speaking again, but, you could tell from his eyes that the moment had passed.
I remembered in the end thinking "there was so much to that story, that he left out". Not because he didn't remember, but that the remembering completely overtook his thought processes, and in the end, there were no words. I spoke to him a few times after that, kind of around the same subject, but, I never saw that look again.
I think, that is what happened to me that morning. I got on the bike, and She was waiting for me, She was going to make sure that we had an adventure. In reading that story for me, I mentally have those moments when I just nod, remembering the sounds, and the vision, and everything else.
Could I edit the story and make it better. I don't think so, because as I said in actual story, some things, words cannot describe.
So, know this, I accept your premise that it was was a boudoir memoir, but, I was fully clothed, outside, and upright, and no bodily fluids were exchanged.
Thanks for the comment. I take it as a compliment that it made you sort of "feel" what I was feeling. To me, that is the greatest compliment that you can give someone that writes, whether they write because you cannot stop it from coming out of them, or for other personal reasons.
Interestingly, I shared the "Ride" story with several Twitter friends. Friends I have never met, and knowing how shy I am, might not ever meeting in real life, and many of them were impressed by the writing.
Which is a long way to say, I think I have found what I can use my old blog for.
I hope that the "Ride" story isn't a "one off". I like this.