"Third time?" I ask.
"Yeah, the third time since I met you that you've been in a skateboarding funk."
"Really?"
"Look do you want to skate or not?"
"Why the fuck else would I be calling you?"
"Well fucking come over now."
I put on some Minor Threat. Nothing. Some Void. A little bit of something. I grab my skateboard from the basement and then sit back down. I check my Pay Pal account to see if Pontus has taken my money. I'm obviously delaying leaving the house at this point. He has. Cool. I should get his film in the post, in a week or so. At that moment the postman delivers the mail. Pontus' film is the only thing that is delivered this Saturday morning. Fuck me. I put it on. I don't get very far. I'm out the fucking door. I'm coming, Jeff.
"Death is always on the way, but the fact that you don't know when it will arrive seems to take away from the finiteness of life. It's that terrible precision that we hate so much. But because we don't know, we get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood, some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of your life without it? Perhaps four or five times more. Perhaps not even. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems limitless."
—Paul Bowles "The Sheltering Sky"
"Embrace death" -Slogan on Jeff's skateboard.
Thank You Pontus.
