My roommate tosses me the painkillers and...

I am going to fight the urge to pen "of a mortal accent" again. It's far too dramatic.

In other news, I just survived my first motorcycle accident. I chose to brake, second guessed, attempted to swerve, and in my half decision, caught the back right bumper of a truck stopping suddenly. It would be nice to see my carcass flying through the air on YouTube, for I have no recollection of it. I only know that I have sustained significant damage to Vikram, and potentially my left knee. I was surrounded by three caring women who witnessed the event. And four passengers of the truck, vaguely smelling of particular herb.

We live most in the wake of such life forks. I stare into the windows of my apartment. They look the same. I blink and reopen, and it's as if all is being reassembled, as if I am not supposed to be here now. I blink again and everything is stupidly normal.

I know that if I had taken either choice, brake or swerve, stupidly normal would be expectable. I know that indecision nearly killed me today. It's left a peculiar discoloration on my laptop screen, and a few expectable discolorations upon my knee. And... that's all? As far as I can reckon at the moment, yes. The ice bag is where it should be - I only hope I can still hike a week hence.

Only that is not all. I am woken, in a manner that fleets. I hope to learn something from it. Is there something to learn, other than split-second decision making? I would hope so. When I sit here immobilized, do I rest and think of nothing? Do I recount events (again)? Do I read the Internet? Do I have a beer? Do I pray/thank/curse/laugh/furrow?

Thoughts have caught up to words. Time to stop.