Four Wheels on a Board

I roll round to the ramps; the sun has broken through. Just under an
hour ago, I saw the sun breaking through. It looked beautiful. It's
difficult to describe. I just woke up, and decided to leave the house
in the not so early hours of the morning. It was warm, and I was
sweating a treat, so I got my skateboard, my signing on card, and left.
There is no one else around, so the ramps are mine for now. Got my
watch set to leave, time to reach the heavens.
80's Thrash metal or 90's Gansta rap, the soundtrack don't matter. I
don't listen to anything whilst I'm on the ramp, but had I filmed
myself, if its loud and not part of the mainstream, then its my
soundtrack. But how can anyone have a soundtrack whilst warming up. I
do a few spins, then slide on the sides.
Then using my right leg for speed, I go over the ramps, getting faster
each step taken. Do more slides, then I go on the highest ramp, and I
go for it. Climb; use my right leg for speed, then down the ramp, onto
the ground, onto the sides, gathering more speed, then onto the other
high ramp, wanting to touch the sky. I'm in the air, just for two split
seconds. My hand doesn't even go over the trees that I see in the
distance.
It gets better, getting higher each time, just getting the buzz that
some would get off alcohol or E. This is a natural high, all in the
name of extreme. Crowd surfing, now that is a buzz, people giving you a
leg up, and the sea of hands that carry me, the band on stage giving it
their all. I got higher, staying in the air for more than five seconds,
going over the trees that I saw in the distance.
I sat on the concrete sides for a few minutes, opening a bottle of
cheap soft drink. I'm sweating a bit, so I'm doing something good. Then
I just dream for a few minutes, just wondering what I'd be doing if
there were no such thing as skateboards, what would be the
alternative?
I pictured myself, eyes looking into a mirror, ready to face a crowd.
I've got gloves on, and between someone else, one of us is going to
have its face on the floor, carried out on a stretcher. Years before,
my little boy eyes had seen a world war. There was no television, books
were for the rich. There was no glamour, no ladies to be seen, as I
walked passed two walls of gambling men. The opponent is there,
bouncing around. The fighting ring, four corners, has three thick hang
man ropes around all four sides.
But I didn't dream myself fighting, cause I never believed in that. I
pictured myself having supporters, cause I can picture them around
competition ramps, all the big names of the skateboard trade stickerd
around, my body in the air, touching the heavens.
But skateboarding is like boxing, a hobby, a way of life. But I don't
have any interest in punching the lights out of someone, had enough of
that in school. But unlike boxing, I'm not into competitions, I just do
it for piece of mind, to escape, maybe entertain people passing
by.
After a few more slides on the side and into the air a few times, the
watch goes. Like the old saying goes, time flies when you're having
fun, as I walk over the bridge and back into the city, to sign my name
on dotted lines.