Choose risk. Choose excessive speed. Choose your freedom. Choose a fleeting glimpse at beautiful scenery.
Choose blind corners and decreasing apexes. Choose a fucking big bore turbocharged litre bike.
Choose chain lube, racing stands, and carbon fiber body kits.
Choose full leathers, full faced helmets, titanium knee pucks and riding boots.
Choose your friends. Choose tripple the posted speed limit through corners.
Choose new tires. Choose your oil. Choose being cut off by cagers on a daily basis.
Choose multi-gear freeway wheelies, 12 o'clock stoppies. Choose rolling burnouts.
Choose over priced OEM parts and the newest stunt videos. Choose bad mechanics who don't know shit.
Choose channel 55 on tuesdays, watching bone crushing accidents and blisteringly fast passes.
Choose lowsiding on some gravel, pishing away your last moments in a miserable attempt at figuring out where it all went wrong.
Choose your future. Choose life.
But why would I want to do a thing like that?
I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? there are no reasons.
Who needs reasons when you've got a sportbike?