A SONG I USED TO LISTEN TO BIKING

i found a good friend in a much older girl. she tolerates my way of conducting business, its the easy sidebysidety i commonly think about. she is most unlike me, but i most like her. i trust she knows that.

i do feel seen but more than flattery it was shared understanding. social flexibility on her side, emotional clarity on mine, without superiority. i wouldnt have held out if just a few months earlier. so i meet her at the right time.

on monday i found a fellow biker in her. part of the national biking association, she learned a few years ago and maintains her spot. inspiring.

i expressed how much i missed biking. the clearest memory of younger years, the effortless ground of meaningful early friendships.

lets go soon, she told me. right before leaving. i was tempted to walk with her all the way to her car.

17 was when i last biked. my favourite song then was "21" by hello sleepwalkers. when all i had was a computer, id carry it in my backback playing the downloaded song on my headphones.

now almost 21, i listen to it again. memories of my inner state, if extant back then are hazy, and i dont speak japanese, yet i perfectly recalled my relationship with the lyrics. i was even able to translate most lines myself.

this is what they felt like to me biking at 17:

The never-withering flower has withered.
The never-ending song has ended.
Nothing to do about it, I laugh,
As if giving up on my days.
But even that is a little lonely.
I tried to scream, but it was empty.
I taste helplessness again.
And just like that,
Just like that, I'm here.

The city lights are dim.
My reflecting heart is also dim.
Its strange that the sky,
is so far away like this.

I'm still seeing dreams.
Chasing the back of someone I don’t know.

On nights,
when I want to throw everything away,
I speed up my bike chasing,
The past I can no longer return to.
The cry of rusty wheels,
Resonates well in the winter sky.
Erasing,
The real sound of my crying.

A cold wind hits your cheeks.
Piercing in the chest.
I hugged you naked.
The room is the same as it was back then.

A cold wind hits your cheeks.
Piercing in the chest.
I hugged you naked.
The room is the same as it was back then.

On nights when I want to throw everything away,
I speed up my bike chasing,
The past I can no longer return to.
The cry of rusty wheels,
Resonates well in the winter sky.
Erasing,
The real sound of my crying,

I hugged you naked.
The room is the same as it was back then.