In march i bought a bergamont grandurance 8 2024. Green color, my favorite. It was my bicycle and it was taken from me.
this bike was special because it was my first gravel bicycle. it was not just a bicycle. It was part of me.
I left it on a chain for the fifth time this year in front of the gym where I train. when I got out, I just saw the chain and just my world crumbled. The police were powerless. They did nothing.
when I got home, I cried, and I was so angry…
since then, I am not the same person and I think I am in depression because I really love cycling with this bicycle. It was really fun and some motherfucker stole it from me, stole my joy from me.
every day, I imagine how I inflict such a terrible pain to this person and just seeing him suffer. Death would be an escape. I want him to suffer for years and just die in his own misery and then live again just to die on next day as well. this is how I feel. I’m sorry to say it, but this is exactly how I feel.
every day I wake up with this thought because I am not a rich person and I cannot afford a new bicycle right now and I will have to wait for months until I get a new one. everybody around me tells me just to forget it, but I cannot do it. I am so sad. I have done so much good to so much people that are poor and that are sad and miserable and this is what my faith is?! What’s the fucking point…
for the past 18 months I have done charity cooking for homeless people for poor people for so many times and at the end, some another poor motherfucker steals the only thing I like as a possession. I was never a materialistic person, but this possession was really my favorite thing which when I see it and my heart started racing just because when I grabbed this bicycle, I felt freedom for real.
this happened just one week after I had a really terrible tooth operation for which I had to endure so much pain and just when I got OK my bicycle got stolen. and yes, of course the tooth operation costs twice as this bicycle.
every day I shed a tear for this great piece of iron and rubber, which transferred the spinning of my legs to pure emotional happiness.
I am from Bulgaria. I live in the capital city and here nobody loves cycling. I am one from the fewer ones and I am wondering who will buy this bicycle and what will she or he do with it… if the motherfucker sells this thing just for parts, then he’ll barely make €100 at best.
this was my rant and I think I feel a little bit better now since I shared it with you.
I shared my story with so many people around the Bulgarian Internet, facebook groups and subreddits, but all I got was laughter at me as of “how could I leave the bicycle standing for one hour without watching over it?!”
by kristian9107