Skiing represented a very necessary personal sense of being unimpeded. I couldn't comprehend responsibilit when I knew skiing. I knew skiing well. You couldn't sneak an edit past me nor news of who was now sponsored by whom because I worshipped the two slabs of wood I strapped my feet into every weekend and I was fucking happy. These were the days of soaked T-shirts that boastfully and loosely suspended over your knees, sheltered by a "custom" hoodie you sewed an opposing-colored stripe in the middle of. You hunted the internet for the loudest, most menacing rap song available to plaster under your clips because the ignorance was so uninhibited. We were fucking happy. Currently, I'm laying in my girlfriend's bed while she sleeps and I stay awake watching edits from eight years ago, reminiscing on when skiing had a passion for being carefree. We all grow up and lose touch, but maybe you needed this reminder to fight back. I skied once this year and my younger self would kick my ass for that and justifiably so. I don't know where I was going with this, but fight back and don't lose touch.
Bring back backyard set-up edits, the Salomon G-Suit, oversized skis, cutting off your sleeves, and afterbang among other things. Thanks for reading my ramblings.