Saturday, August 9, 2008

senses overload (spanish streets)

The hillsides ring with “free the people” -
or can I hear the echo from the days of ’39
with trenches full of poets,
the ragged army, fixing bayonets to fight the other line?
Spanish bombs rock the province;
I’m hearing music from another time.
Spanish bombs on the Costa Brava;
I’m flying in on a DC-10 tonight.
-(mick jones, the clash)

this is , although ive said it before, an unbelievable paradise. the city goes on and on. with every block and around every corner there is just more and more and more. picture perfect, non confrontational, absolute ideal contitions. as if every time i step on the board im going downhill. smooth. the cast on my left hand is really taking a turn for the worse. i do not envy whomever has to sit on the left hand side of me on the sixteen hour plane ride home. with at least 2 more weeks of this sweaty stink-arm seeping into the ofactorial repugnantness. the hotter it stays here, the more unpleasant i must be to share an elevator with. im sure ill be chopping it off upon swift return. seeping oozing muck. dead flesh decaying into mold and mildew. a non stop sweatfest that nary a perfum can set asunder. skateboarding in the day means losing all of your bodys water content. im attempting to stay sunscreened, but the 2 fingered application of my shit-hand leaves my shoulder wanting. weak az. in this barren land of archetecture modern and classic. naarrow streets and bikelands for days, we can create our own adventure. as the sun beats down onto my scalp and shoulders there is a film constant of sweat. falling down or crashing brings the adoption of half of the road sticking to your body like a hitchiker in the pacific northwest. this evenings adventure will bring yet another temporary residence. adventure continues. skating out in the day also means , as we have to be courteous to our captors/(the ones who are kind enough to allow sleepdowns in their domosciles), there are never less than eight dudes rampaging the streets in our 'crew' . skateboarders are dogs , pack animals seeking out the next concourable endeavour. be it food, or obsticle. im over being one of many. i long for the individual smaller group . where you are ceneterd and focused and not waiting for billy to take a shit or bobby to get a drink. well im off. next time when i peel myself off of wherever i manage to lay it down for the night, we will see a hot morning.

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