Tonight
Decided to take a break from the screaming children tonight. Some people say that here has some bad areas, being out alone at night in a place like this could have consequences. Maybe I stick to the right areas, maybe those people exaggerate. Doesn’t matter. Short sleeves, short pants, short socks, long board.
It’s been awhile. I rolled my ankle the last time I was out, and have been dealing with murmurings of a shin-splint on my pushing leg. Doesn’t matter. I’m ground-floor.
The ipod’s been broken for weeks. Abstract art from freed(!) liquid crystals. Doesn’t matter. I know how to feel it out, at least enough to get it to shuffle. Tonight’s shuffle was beautiful and appropriate for my first night boarding in awhile. Fate can be fun like that, in the way that presents you with slow solitary piano, delicious post-rock and the illest of hip hop at just the right moment.
It feels good to be on the streets, I’m not planning a big ride (haha I never do but they happen often) and I know the smoothest pavement near my place. Shaking the dust off of these creaky bones happens faster than I expect. It didn’t matter.
The streets are mostly empty, and the sky is perfect. Palm trees and powerlines silhouetted against the gradient of a subduing sky and the light pollution (and I do me pollution) of the bustle that surrounds these neighborhoods. I guess that doesn’t matter much, either. Blacker still is the asphalt, and I’m happy
It’s fun to feel like a kid in your twenties. Slaloming the paint on the street, taking big corners down low, hitting the banks, attempting (and failing) tricks. If this place had hills I wouldn’t be home yet. Everything’s smooth and quiet, these streets belong to me. This is my place in the world.
Cruising at about 15, I stretch as tall as I can go. Sometimes it’s upsetting to think that I’ll be moving away from everything I grew up with. Sometimes it’s upsetting to think the opposite. But there’s a lot of roads out there, and I’m not going to be on this planet nearly as long as I’d like to be. But this sense of movement, of freedom, of fresh new experiences, that’s a constant I can live with. I’ve made it this far, I want to keep going. These are the things I think about when carving the concrete at night, as the rest of the world doesn’t matter for a bit.