Move via: @bsykesm4
Somewhere along the line, I stopped fighting the ocean. Maturity? Soft? Got tired of taking L’s? That Ocean never stops man. Keeps coming over and over and over and over, cut to that Marshawn Lynch sound bite.
Need a rematch; another shot at the title. 15 rounds at 200.
Talk about blowing off some steam. Seriously, think about it. Imagine that flood of dopamine after a split-decision loss to the Pacific as a grown adult. Cardio, the refreshing feel of salt water engulfing your body, absorbing the sun’s cozy rays, getting lost in the process of visually reading each wave. “Sounds like surfing man!” Yeah, but it’s missing that final piece. That channel of rage shifting from body to mind: haymaker, dropkick, Stunner, People’s Elbow, Sweet Chin Music. Holy therapy.
Why did I ever stop? Back then, my irritable levels were at an all-time low. Only thing that pissed me off was that balloon level in Super Mario World. Now I write essays about how much I hate e-bikes like the washed, joyful guy I once was. What changed? Was it the effects of old man time leaning on my patience and tolerance for accepting change? Or was it because I stopped fighting the ocean, stopped acting like my whiffle-ball home run was to win the World Series? I gotta loosen up man. Bout to throw a baseball card in the spokes, ride to the beach and beat the shit out of the ocean. I’ll be back in no time.
Here’s Klark’s opinion on last week's Movesletter. Couldn’t agree more Klark… Couldn’t agree more.
Thanks for tuning in guys. We’ll talk next week. 🐐🐐🐐
- Bobby D
Other account I’m messing around with: A1JonSnow
Merch: Here