Quark, Strangeness and Charm - Part 6

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The ramblings of the last sane me.

When it was first made, Coca-Cola used cocaine as one of the ingredients, which was why it became so popular so quickly. People were literally getting addicted to it and had to buy more and more to satisfy their need. Sales slumped dramatically when the company eventually stopped using 'coke' as one of the ingredients, although the name has stuck to both products.

One rots your teeth, the other rots your brains. Which is more important? Well, that one, I am afraid, is up to you. But bear in mind that it is easier to get false teeth than it is a replacement brain. Coca-Cola does mix well with Mister Daniel's finest, though, which goes to show that you can still rot your brain and teeth at the same time as enjoying yourself. Gods alone know what affect it had when it was still in its original form and then mixed with a measure of old number seven. Flying on a high like that must have made for some horrific landings the next day. Can you imagine a combined drug and alcohol hangover, courtesy of such an innocent-looking delivery system that also tasted pretty good at the time? Good job somebody noticed how bad cocaine is for the human body, then, isn't it?

Yamaha 600cc Fazer or Suzuki 600 cc Bandit S? Riding a motorcycle is an addictive method of transport. The sense of freedom that it gives you is comparable only with other equally risky hobbies such as mountain biking or rock climbing or even parachuting. There comes a point when you're learning to ride a motorbike when even the daily commute to work becomes an enjoyable experience. It seems to be over just as you get moving. No sooner have you pulled away from the front of your home, then you are parking up outside your place of work and wondering how you got there so quickly. Eventually, all journeys become ever so slightly surreal. You are absolutely focused on the road around you, looking for potential hazards and preparing yourself for the next manoeuvre that you need to make. You become hyper-aware of everything around you and yet, when you reach your destination, all that your conscious mind can recall is a few scattered fragments from the whole journey. But while travelling you notice every pebble, every person walking along the pavement, every parked car and bird taking flight. Until you stop. And then everything you have just seen slips away, leaving you with a mild sense of loss and a huge feeling of bewilderment at how you got where you are so fast.

Weird. Marvellous, but weird. I would not exchange that feeling for anything in the world.


It affects us all.

Good or ill,

Better or worse.


From it we grow,

Without it we stagnate

And in time die.


Learn to change,

To adjust

and to grow.


The forge of our lives,

The anvil to our will,

The mould we grow from.


The reward for our souls.

The prize for survival

Of the forge of the world.


For the loss,

For those who pass on.

For the friendship we lose.


From the friends we have made.

Whose company we seek

To enliven our days.


At our lives.

Not our jobs that pay bills.

But to enjoy the rewards that life brings.


Each new day.

The challenge it brings,

To touch one more soul.


The lost chance to help.

The tender word lost,

the last caress missed.


The stranger in trouble,

The one you could aid.

A moment's pause and a new friend.


Each new day try and help.

Or to learn how to see.

This world where we live.


Our family,

Our first real friends,

Our last true love.


My life grow.

The friends I have made.

The life I enjoy.

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