Four thirty in the morning. Four thirty and I'm still sitting at my desk, typing this, after putting the finishing touches to my stupid dissertation, the worst piece of shit that anybody has ever written; after trying to relax my mind by digging for new tunes, watching classic skateboard video parts and searching for affordable furniture online, or at least ideas to replica them with cardboard boxes.
The thing about getting mentally relaxed is that, if you miss a certain point, you get hyped again. When you find a mellow tune with a super smooth flow and great lyrics, a song that makes you think, makes you dream, that reminds you of growing up then that's a good point to shut down your computer, shut down your brains too, and lie down to get carried away by your imagination.
But one false move is enough to stay seated in that office chair, one false click and two more hours pass by as easily as Tommy Guerrero cruised down those San Francisco hills in 1985. I was one year old when he pushed through the streets. I mentally went through my vhs days and searched for all those parts that made me go skate as a kid. And they still do. So how could I sleep?
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