This is John doing a John trick. He's got several.
One time we had pancakes, John likes the sizzurp.
Johnny is a media star, be it in print like this photo from Transworld, or on camera in any number of skateboard videos. His section in The Struggle is a recent fan favorite for sure, and his appearance in Sean Reilly's Brokeback Skateboarding was nothing short of mesmerizing.
It's been super rad lately to see the evolving of John. He's not just a skate rat anymore. He's stepping out on the town these days, even in the company of ladies. He has a few drinks, he's a man of the world now.
I'm sure he hates this piece, but tough shit, here it is:
John Oliveira:
It was pouring rain and he was running down the street barefoot. His feet hurt something awful, and he thought that there may have been blood on his hands as well, but John had no time to stop and look. As he sprinted across the busy road against the light, his right foot stepped directly into a large pothole that had no doubt doubled in size since the unusually heavy rains had started nearly a month earlier. John went down hard, and the way his ankle twisted a normal human would have screamed out in agonizing pain and been immobilized immediately. However, he was not normal. John was about as far away from normal as a person could be, and it was this that saved him from becoming a hood ornament at that very moment.
The driver of the silver Lexus two door sedan could barely see through his windshield wipers, they were operating at their highest speed but it was still difficult to make out what was even five feet in front of him. As soon as John hit the ground he saw the headlights approaching fast and reacted. He did a one-armed push up right into a spinning barrel roll, a move that he had never done before. The car seemed to be moving in slow motion as he expertly executed this strange life-saving maneuver, and he avoided the Lexus with incredible ease. “Whoa“, he thought to himself in mid-flight. “Is this really happening? I’m not dreaming, am I? Is this some kind of Matrix type shit or what?”
As he landed on his bare feet safely out of harm’s way, John whipped around and quickly looked up and down the street. He needed to find something familiar, a landmark, a street sign, anything to help him identify where in the hell he was at this moment so that he could negotiate his way home and make his escape.. Nothing stood out to him, he was completely lost. Again. It seemed like only a week or so had passed since the last time, that horrible time that John swore would be the last. Unavoidably, it was always like this, and John could do nothing about it. He tried in vain to ignore the voice in his head that drove him, but the voice was determined. Determined to own him. Determined to rule him.
John kept running, he knew he had to get as far away from this area as he could or he would surely be caught this time. Nearly out of breath and close to total exhaustion, he finally made his way to a church, or a school, he couldn’t tell, and he didn’t really care at this point . It was dark and off of the main road, and that was all that he cared about now. He passed what he thought was a cafeteria or something and found himself at a waist high drinking fountain. “Ahhhh…at last …” the voice in his head sounded relieved.
John stood for nearly thirty seconds staring at the water fountain dumbfounded until the voice spoke up again. “Well, don’t just stand there, stupid. Wash your hands!” The voice was practically scolding him. John looked at his bloody hands, there was definitely something weird going on here. First of all, his hands didn’t hurt at all. No pain whatsoever, but they were bloody as hell, and from the looks of it, it wasn’t his blood either. John turned on the fountain by pushing the handle with his knee and began furiously washing his hands. As he desperately scrubbed his palms together under the water the voice in his head spoke again. “Yes, good, John! Veeeery good…that’s it! Get that bitches blood off of you! Hurry up! You don’t have much time…”
John finished washing his hands, and he looked down and noticed that they were not scratched or cut in any way whatsoever . It was like déjà vu all over again. “How many times has this happened before?” John asked himself. “I know what you mean, John…” The voice in his head answered almost on cue. “In all this excitement I kind of lost track myself.” John didn’t want to believe that it was going down this way again, but there was no denying it.
“It’s not like it matters anyway, John. The police have no idea… you know that, right?” The voice continued. “How do you know? How could you possibly have any idea what the police know or don’t know???” John asked in an uneasy tone that unintentionally betrayed just how scared he was at that very moment. “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny…” the voice replied. “NO ONE has any idea. They don’t have a clue. How could they know? You and I are way too smart for that, John. Surely you must realize this by now…” the voice got eerier with each word, but John tried his best to compose himself. “What are you talking about?” John asked the voice. “You’re the smart one…I never have any idea what’s going on! I don’t know what I’m doing! YOUR voice guides ME! I don’t even want to hurt people, let alone kill them!” he added. The voice could only laugh now, and the sound of it’s cackle instantly made John nearly sick to his stomach. “John…what in god’s name are you talking about? I AM YOU…and you are me. My bloodlust is yours, and your murderous desire is mine…you’ve always known this to be true.” John shook his head as he responded. “No….that’s not the way it is. You’re not real…you’re imaginary. You’re a figment of my imagination…”
As much as he desperately wanted to believe the words that he spoke, John knew deep down inside that they simply were just not true. Knife Arm WAS real. Knife Arm WAS NOT imaginary, and Knife Arm definitely WAS NOT a figment of his imagination. The siren that now blared in the distance wasn‘t in his head either, and John could hear it getting closer. He didn’t need the voice to tell him what to do now. It was time to run. Again.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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