Freshly Cut Grass

Today I threw my board. I promised myself a long time ago I wouldn't do that anymore, but I couldn't help it. I snapped. It was a bad day for skating. I threw my board and bruised it on the nose. Earlier, I also kicked it away and gave it a missing tooth on the tail. Then I hit two parked cars, and told an elderly person to shut the fuck up. He pissed me off, which later led to the throwing.

It might have been a bad day for skating, but otherwise it was actually not too bad. The sun was out all day and a nice breeze blew in through my tilted window. I listened to an old Jazzanova album, had some assorted dark chocolate and helped a friend with a translation. Then I decided to go push and that's when things fell apart. There's just some people who, I mean, they, ah ...

So I came back home with a foul mood. Standing in the kitchen I downed several much needed gulps of water and thought about my dissatisfying skate session. I changed into my basketball gear, grabbed the Molten and jumped on my bike. It's not a long ride, and the wind cooling my aggrevated face was kinda nice. By the time I arrived at the court, my anger was gone.

Imagine this. You pass the gate and see nobody else around. A rugged old streetball court with a steel hoop and flaws all over the cement ground. A metal fence prevents nosy passers-by from watching, and the evening sun is your only spectator. It's a beautiful thing. The narrow strip of grass behind the basket is freshley cut. Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and find a little happiness.