After a day of accomplishing nothing but cleaning papers off a desk, I went to mandarin class, which happens to be by the bridge. I happened to bring my skateboard, and it happened to be pouring rain, so I spent some quality time under the bridge. I met a foreigner there who has been here for seven years longer than me. As he was cool and twisted his ankle, I postponed skating to talk to him about what to expect from my next seven years in Taiwan, as the lightning flashed on either side of us, above the bridge. I am delighted by people who are free, and I think he was free. Free people are a rare thing to encounter, in a world of wage slaves and zealots. After he left, I had a couple of TB's and came very nearly close to landing a handful of new tricks, but didn't roll away from any of them cleanly. Then skateboard gave up the ghost. It looks like lightening struck it, right across the middle.
Breaking a skateboard is similar to death. It is final. There was one last trick, at one last place, on one last day, and then it ends. There is a sort of reincarnation in this metaphor, but it's more like that greek dude's ax than actual reincarnation. Focusing a skateboard is a form of suicide, which maybe speaks deeply for why we are all doing this. Or maybe it's just imaturity writ large. Either way, the function doesn't change: one day, you will break the board. There will have been a last trick. One day, you will die. What do you want to do tomorrow?
Depth is lame. I can't wait to set up a new deck. I hated that piece of shit.
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