Saturday, January 19, 2002
Muscles melting into the floor. Brazen wind burn on my face. Still feeling the sliding skating slickness of the snow under my board — swish! My body beefed up like the Michelin Man in a space suit, going to Mars, or Jupiter, or the ice caverns of Io, or Keystone, Colorado. Driving long stretches of unkept highway: clear skies, white peaks, clean air. Body tilting forward. Turn right. Body leaning backward. Turn left. Straight down, downtown, to the base lift and back up again. And back up again. And again. And again. It?s like sledding on your feet, this board underneath you like a flat rocket powered by the non-poluting natural fuel called gravity and aided by frictionless surfaces. Man kind has always wanted to know what it feels like to fly like a bird. Why else would lift tickets cost fifty bucks a pop?
Et Cetera
// Rolling list of recently browsed.
- » Sexual Writing Differences
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- » Party of Five - 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5.