A Quote by Fabio Lanzoni

When I'm cruising around on my bike, I feel completely free, but I share my possessions. My friends can always borrow my motorcycles. Even if they end up crashing them, it's OK with me.
It is not OK in this culture to talk to friends about causes you believe in, much less to ask them to join in. It's OK to blast perfect strangers with crass messages every hour of the day, but it's a tinge embarrassing, it brings up some shyness, it seems an intrusion, it risks rejection to share real heartfelt commitments. It's easier to share our cynicism with strangers than our dreams with friends.
Friendship is very important to me. With some friends, we've known each other since we were kids and it's a very strong relationship. They always tell me what they think even when I am wrong. It's great to share with them the best moments. I also have many friends in the team, and I like to share my passion with them.
I grew up in a small town where we played around on motorcycles and things, but it really started when I got old enough. I think I was obsessed with the culture of riding. I got sick of having to date guys who rode motorcycles for me to be on them.
L.A. is great, but it's a completely different beast. I go back to Minnesota, and I borrow a bike from my neighbor and go around Lake Harriet saying 'Hi' to people. Some of that is missing in L.A.
I am free, and always have been; free to accept my own reality, free to trust my perceptions, free to believe what makes me feel sane even if others call me crazy, free to disagree even if it means great loss, free to seek the way home until I find it.
As you feel increasingly comfortable around your friends, I think it's more than fine to share the basic details of your heroin addiction with them. If they seem receptive, you can feel free to talk about it in further detail; if they seem judgmental or uncomfortable, you can move on to other topics.
A lot of people are obsessed with their possessions, but that's not right. It's OK to own a lot of things as long as you're willing to share them.
After the motorcycle trips I take for one or two weeks, I have trouble getting back into a car, because I feel claustrophobic with all of that metal around me, and I can't see anything. I feel seriously dangerous in a car after riding on a bike, because your field of vision is so closed in. And then I think about all these little bourgeois people driving around in their cars - it's actually hideous. It cramps you on the head, it cramps you on the side, it puts you in a box on wheels... It's a terrible experience. Motorcycles are about opening the field of vision.
Sure, I have friends, plenty of friends, and they all come around wantin' to borrow money. I've always been generous with my friends and family, with money, but selfish with the important stuff like love.
If I was a fan of someone as a teenager, then it's OK for me to feel completely in awe when I meet them.
I feel a certain amount of freedom just cruising to the liquor store to get water or whatever. It just feels good. It makes me feel young getting on the bike and - again, not going crazy, I do bunny-hops and I'll hit some curbs and stuff - but just feeling like a kid again.
Even when I'm old and grey I'll probably be cruising around and bunny-hopping and stuff. In the words of the Descendents, "I don't want to grow up."
I've been burned a few times by people I've once considered good friends. When I call someone my "friend," I open up and share my entire life with them. That always makes me feel a little vulnerable, but I just love the idea of people mutually opening up to each other and sharing wisdom and life experiences together.
I never want to abandon my bike. I see my grandfather, now in his seventies and riding around everywhere. To me that is beautiful. And the bike must always remain a part of my life.
What was I afraid of, exactly? What other people would think? I guess, a little. But that wasn't what was stopping me from acting on my feelings. It was the intensity of them. The desire for her. I knew if I gave into it, I'd have to surrender myself completely. I'd lose all control. Everything I knew, everything I was, the walls I'd built up to protect myself all these years would come crashing down. I might get lost in the rubble. Yet, she made me feel alive in a way I'd only ever imagined I could feel. Bells, whistles, music.
I always feel like people misunderstand the difference between an Asian story and an Asian-American story. That's completely different, too. I have friends who grew up in Asia, and our experiences are so different. Even though we might look the same, I feel like being Asian and then being Asian-American is completely different.
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