Phoenix on wheels

We put in blood, sweat, and tears for you to just give up now!

It’s not about losing the match. You know I’ve never liked tennis! I muttered. 

So what now? Don’t tell me you’re going to spend your time playing video games.

A raspy and crickety train-like sound echoes behind me. At first, I think it is the rain. 

A blur glides past like a lightning bolt. 

The blur has bleached hair and his pants are drooped down below the waistline. He jumps, rotating 180 degrees in midair, his board glued to his feet, landing lightly on the pavement, somehow miraculously without planting his face into the pavement.

Thoughts of me replicating that movement races into my mind. As the blur sails into the distance, my eyes lead me to a glowing sign floating in front of me. A sea of wooden boards all lined up vertically in complementary colours speaks to me as I peek in the door front. Some have funky fonts while others have amber flames imprinted on their contrasting backgrounds. Some decks are shaped with fishtails while some are as long as a surfboard. The one that catches my eyes is the popsicle-shaped skeleton deck. Its beauty hangs there, staring back at me. I could essentially hear it speaking to me. Its vibrant orange blending effortlessly into the crimson red at the bottom is commanding me to buy that work of art. 

***

My heart races as I ride my skateboard throughout town, moving to the beat of my own pulsating rhythm. It’s one in the morning, the witching hour, when the city streets are empty and waiting for the secret exploits of the few who venture to break the normal curfew. For me, hillbombing — skating down a long steep hill — became an evening ritual, a way to connect with the pavement and the night's hushed winds.

When I took up skating, I quickly became friends with a group of people who shared my love of gliding through the air and the exhilaration of defying gravity. It was about more than simply the camaraderie; it was the mutual connection I have formed along the journey. The late-night skate ventures into unknown suburbs, nearly dying as I struggle for air in between my laughs as I am surrounded by my compatriots. 

Falling off the skateboard for the first time was more than just a tumble. It was a dive into an unknown realm of identity formation. With every fall/stumble after that, I felt a strange, otherworldly sensation, as if I were leaving my body altogether. The adrenaline bursting through my veins after these near-death experiences certainly feels more alive than not doing anything all day. The feeling opposite of adrenaline where one feels life being wasted. 

I would rather embrace existence. 

I've since come to realize that the risks I have taken are not just to feel the adrenaline but also to feel triumph after conquering my fears, knowing my resilience has improved.

Looking back, I can see that my low resilience spawned from my lack of self-assurance, which sprang from a combination of my own critical thoughts and the disapproval of my parents. You've never dared to commit to things, so there's no use in trying that technique became the disheartening anthem of my past existence. Each attempt to break free from this cycle was met with the mocking laughter of my insecurities, leaving me stranded in a desolate landscape of unfulfilled potential.The fear that I may let my interests outside of school cause me to neglect my studies was the root cause of my parents' warnings, which they delivered maliciously.

The weight of these warnings bore down heavily on my already fatigue shoulders, morphing my aspirations into burdens too heavy to bear. The constant struggle to balance personal passions with academic obligations became a relentless tug-of-war, leaving me ensnared in a suffocating web of expectations and disappointments

Skating was my way of standing up against my parents' expectations and proving that I could achieve more than they thought possible. I wanted to show them I am able to handle my studies and have hobbies at the same time. Rather than being a mere pastime, it served as a pathway to fulfilment. I wanted to break free from the constraints of conformity and live my life as I saw fit. Riding down the slopes at top speed unshackled of the burdens I’ve put on myself which cemented my love for the sport and the belief that one should enjoy life to the utmost. Especially when I’m fully immersed in the moment, using all 5 of my senses to make it out of this hillbomb alive rather than being engulfed in my trivial thoughts. 

The cadence of my own being was revealed to me by the stomp of my skateboard. Hillbombing scenarios served as a backdrop against which I depicted my authentic self — strong, capable, and fearlessly daring.

In retrospect, I’ve not only conquered hills but also conquered self-doubt, unveiling a resilience that now is in my reality. This journey on my board has been a testament to the belief that life is to be embraced fully, and through the pursuit of what sets our souls ablaze, we discover the strength to overcome obstacles and carve our unique path.

Each hill conquered is a triumph over self limitations, and each push of the skateboard is a declaration of autonomy. The scars on my elbows, knees, and even the ones on my eye from the malevolent stick are not just reminders of falls; they are my badges of courage earned in the pursuit of authenticity. So, as I continue to ride the streets, I carry not only the weight of my body but the weight of my growth. Ironically this weight is what propelled me up to new heights in life. In a sense, the pursuit of becoming better, gave birth to new characteristics within me. 

In the end that is what makes being alive so unique and precious.