the concussion of beats keeps the walk smooth and steady. the way too heavy door blocks me from pissing 3 seconds sooner. hardlegs in the bathroom smoking. opening act is killing it and the gatorade and beer are asking to be set free from my body. the night ride over here was cooler than usual. goosebumps from weather instead of...felt the satisfaction in killing my lines in the sprinkler slalom and showed up dry while my ride mates cussed at wet chests and helmets. rolled out on the phuket bukket so i wasn't concerned about it's presence in the bike rack once i came out. paused to recall the faces pressed against the glass as i hopped the median and manualed through an intersection to beat a stop light and turning bus. i remember when i couldn't hold a wheelie for shit. headliners hit the stage and the willamette amber starts to fog the senses. broke out of the scene because i couldn't take it and headed for the paths. i needed to ride and sit. found a high jump pit and just collapsed. checked out the stars and quelled the anxiety that had built up. cell phone blowing up with texts and calls. "where the fuck are you, dude?". i'm going home and starting anew tomorrow. my body and mind has seen enough.
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