On your mind all the time, in your blood.
The conditions have changed. This little blog of yours, Like a Wave, needs more mention of the merits of skateboarding. Poetry simply can’t cut it, especially for the masses. Obviously shredding the streets isn’t for everyone either. Still, skating has an edge that attracts attention. You well know the sound of wheels spinning and wood snapping. This passion is in your blood. Almost all the time, skateboarding is on your mind.
Basic instincts are my only specialty. I feel surging adrenaline as you put foot to pavement, pushing fast. Korean streets are different; I know all about that. I feel it in your feet and adjust your weight. There are lights, lights everywhere, and the sound of onlookers’ gasps. People in the States could care less. Here, even a tic-tac blows minds.
I dope us up, dopamine. I turn your head, an eye for new spots. You say skateboarding seeps into a city’s pores, that this passion thrives on ingenuity. Skateboarders, the pursued pursuers, dig through the trash, know the alleys better than most, search out an outlet. Madness. You imagine ripping before rapid eye movement: the Randall Banks, Library Mall, Thirsty Thursdays, all the maneuvers, past and future. And let’s not forget about the friends, your homies, partners in crime.
Finally, in the back seat, I brave forethought. How long can this last? Can Ben really love this feeling forever? I have my doubts (though thought is not my forte). My senses say we’re getting old, even growing up. What will your mind do when body can no longer keep up? Or, will the body want more if mind closes the door? At least expound upon the excitement while it thrives and thrashes.
Once sour, now almost sentient,
Your boyish brawn,