My Time as a Human

Growing up there was a skateboarding age. Genetic I think. Maybe some strange beat in the rhythm of evolution. Human. It came to my turn, my year, and I got a skateboard. Things were good and I was human. It was almost like any development I had gone through before. Things were good.  Would ride around and attempt to flip the board in ways that were sure to crack my head, or my ankles. 

Time passed an I made very little progress. In some areas Im sure my skills decreased. Soon enough I decided it wasn't for me. Many of my close friends became craftsmen of the plank. It was their art. Their genes. I took to reading and Girls.

We all continued evolving and settled into our niches, some being sportsmen, Skate board junkies ( in a hideous bulk ) , do nothings, yellers, sitters ( good company for do nothings, but the do nothings insisted always, they were doing something, not just sitting around. ), future adults, and musicians. I had always been musical but now I could realize it wasn't something I learned, it was my genes. I was sure, upon being stabbed, music would flow from the wound. We started a group.

This was my becoming human. Tapping into what seemed to me a most accurate portrayal of what life was, we played punk rock, thinking the whole time we were responsible for the mental evolution of our peers. I now see it wasn't necessarily us, but we were flag bearers for a cause. Whatever it may have been.

These years also managed to connect the dots as far as my view of the natural world was concerned. For the entirety of my life up to this point my father had made a constant effort to expose my little mind to the wonders of what was, and what still is. We spent every spare moment in the mountains. In the forest. Looking for rivers (always trying to find the water, surrounded by life). Pushing away from the slabs and onto the bare and naked parts of the earth, where her skin was exposed to the sun. I always enjoyed it, and walked away with a good experience, but only in these punk rock years did I see its value. Not only see its value but adopt it. I knew in some way the things I had seen were right. Set up right. Working without flaw. I wasn't sure how to word it, or piece it together then, even in my head. All I knew is that it was right. Looking out and forgetting I did so with eyes, forgetting I did so with looking at all and then I was gone, but everything else was still there. I was everything. I didn't realize the last bit until much later, but looking back I can see I knew it then. I didn't have the words to hold the feeling out in front the part of me that was separate from everything. The fake part. It was when I saw these things, with my thought, and my eyes, and the bottoms of my feet; this is where I ended my time as a human.