Ride a Stearns and Be Content

Ride a stearns and feel a weak-tea kind of happiness, present but almost too faint to taste.

Ride a Stearns and feel fine, if not stellar.

Ride a Stearns and feel O.K.

Ride a Stearns and marinate in your own mediocrity.

Ride a Stearns and settle, because there’s an ocean of difference between what you’d like, and what life, in its cruel vicissitudes, hands out.

Ride a Stearns and be ignorant of all the ways in which your existence is naught but a single expression of impotence and futility, a weak fist shaking at an omnipotent sky.

Ride a Stearns and know that, while things could be worse, they most certainly could be better.

(For many others, they are.)

Ride a Stearns and try not to compare yourselves to peers, because you won’t like the conclusions you’ll draw.

Ride a Stearns and hope that, if you peddle fast enough, the overwhelming, earth-bound storm cloud of your concerns and legitimate problems won’t catch up.

Ride a Stearns and let the waves of despair that come in the mornings, afternoons and nights overtake you, mind and body. Slip into an uncaring oblivion.

Ride a Stearns and be content.