I thought I’d already had enough practice when I finally mustered up the courage to skate down the three-metre-deep skatepark bowl, but I was wrong. I fell with such a speed that everything around seemed to spin. My skateboard flew out from under me, and I landed heavily on the concrete slope. The fall was so bad that I felt like half of my soul had left my body. I stared up into the blue sky. It was so quiet. I genuinely thought I wouldn’t be able to stand again.
But I remember that fall vividly; it felt so good because it made me feel alive. Also, was it not expected? I went skateboarding because of my fear of heights. I really want to skate, yet my trembling legs fail me.
Later on when I went back home, I realized my watch was scratched.
I bought the watch in a rush three days before my first trip to Europe. The reason for getting it was simple: I didn’t have a watch and I needed one. The pickpockets could steal my wallet and mobile phone, but they wouldn’t go for my watch. Right? It made me feel more at ease to think like that. I only had two requirements for the watch — it can tell time, and it should look like a watch. This watch just happened to fulfill both requirements. What more should I require? The only issue I have with it is that its plastic strap ages and breaks, but it can be replaced. And since purchasing this watch, it’s been with me whenever I travel.
Isn’t it a plastic toy watch meant for kids? It could be. I’m reminded of a time in my youth that I spent the day on the football field with my friends until dark, and my father came to take me home for dinner with such anger. I was shocked at that time; of course I knew it was dark, but I really had forgotten about time. Perhaps we shouldn’t be so serious in making such a fuss about time. When shadows begin to stretch, you’ll know it’s time; when you feel hungry, you’ll feel the present moment. If you lose track of time, I think you are spending your time right.