Story for wednesday

 The image displayed in front of me looks like 3 multicolored lizards in the fashion of de dia los muertos or straight out of willy wonka and the chocolate factory. the lizard on the top corner is a vibrant yellow with a blue stripe outlining its spine and limbs, the bottom lizard is pinstriped black then a thicker stripe of neon green, orange and blue. The others I cannot finish for i am out of time

I would much rather be outside in the bright, burning sun whilst it's rays peel away my pale flesh as I repeatedly slam myself against the rough pavement all while feeling the pain of self improvement. yes, I would much rather be in the sun, skateboarding around town, than sitting in a class room today. To hear the rumble of the corroded bearings of my boarding grind against the smooth core of my urethane wheels is like a symphony to my ears. to feel the rough grip-tape on my calloused fingers and to smell burning pavement fuels my appetite for destruction.

I would see the small fragments of rock in the earth to make the street i live on grinding away on my white wheels and the black pixels the seamlessly connecting together to create my murky black grip-tape. I would look down at my shoes, my frayed, adhesive covered shoes to position my feet perfected for the trick i was going to attempt

I usually go skating around mid-day so the smell of hot pavement would be fresh in the air, almost like the smell of burning silver dollar city pavement and the way its rubbery crispy smell lingers for what seems like hours. I would smell the sliding of my wheels creating friction upon the already burning ground to create a hot wax smell that of a scentless candle. i would smell the stinging perspiration running down my forehead and the wind rushed against me wiping all of my previous scents clean, only left to take in the warm summer breeze

I could taste the ground almost every time I would hit it falling off of my maple wood skateboard. it would burn the ever loving hell out of my tongue much like a pizza that had just came out of the oven. fire baked, flavorless, painful and delicious. I can taste the saliva building up in my mouth from focusing on the larger picture, not falling onto the lava like ground and when I inevitably do..

I can feel the rattling of the ground beneath my feet and I glide aimlessly down the street, like surfing upon a miniature earthquake. Feeling the rough scale like grip tape of my board sanding away more and more of my already calloused finger tips as i throw the hunk of would against the earth and it jerks every which way taking me far away from all of the worries of yesterday

I would hear the rubbing of my corroded bearings against my wheels, grinding away creating a hushed whoooooshhhhh similar to the wind on a kite flying day. I would hear the bolts of my trucks rattling away, tap dancing against the wood of my skateboard. The quiet hum of the cars going by and the birds singing their daily song as I roll by. It would all come together to create a symphony in my ears more elegant that a composed piece of music, it was the natural composition of a skateboarders everyday routine.

As I roll on by the normal spots I remember all of the times I had slammed myself on the ground, ejected myself by hitting the smallest rock, feeling the sting of singed skin. Reminding me that i'm not alone in this world, feeling the pain of self improvement, feeling something other than worry or stress. The childlike nature that skateboarding bring me back to is blissful. every heel flip or 360 brings me back to the first time I ever flicked my feet on a skate board and landed back on safely. The overwhelming sense of joy never leaves with every trick I land

Today I imagine I'll sidewalk surf whilst listening the the hum of my wheels and the rattle of my dancing bolts the church where I had spent most of my childhood gliding around. I'll roll right over to the grass where my best friend and i spent most of our days trying to clear and reminisce on the simpler times it brings me to. The times before everyone grew up and moved on with their lives and before all of the drugs. Yes a simple body turn clearing the gap almost reminds me of his voice saying " dude you weeny you gotta do something cooler than that over the grass". As a child Brian, my now long lost friend was always much better than me at skating. floating and flicking kick flips everywhere, even over the grass gar i struggled to Ollie over. Popping the tail against the ground and throwing my board against the earth I never gave in, that was the best thing about our friendship, we always pushed each other to try something harder and inevitably more painful