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  #21  
Old 05-02-2011, 10:07 PM
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zeropaint zeropaint is offline
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as always i enjoyed the read
fuck steck!!!!!!!some deep shit bro.....
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"Also if we do the whole psp series there is no chance in hell you could go to cup in october jade would hunt you down and kill all of us" carl jr.
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  #22  
Old 05-02-2012, 02:20 PM
131SteckTastic131 131SteckTastic131 is offline
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Here we go. My next post is what i had written about in vegas, i though i had lost this last January or February of last year, which was then about 4 months after vegas. However, not to long ago, some body manage to recover some documents from the old computer here, and this was recovered. Like always, i left the post and its contents as un edited as possible, it was what i felt at the time and that is what i wanted to document. This doesn't have much paintball in there but it is what it is:
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  #23  
Old 05-02-2012, 02:36 PM
131SteckTastic131 131SteckTastic131 is offline
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Freezing In the Desert

The one aspect tourists tend to forget about in the desert, or at least are not informed of, is the drastic temperature plunge at night. At first the evening is comfortably warm so you don’t think twice about your t-shirt and jeans, in fact you’re too busy dodging the clicking “business“ cards and focusing on the fireworks going off on Treasure Island to worry about something like your shirt. It would take most of the night till you’re already shuffling pass Circus Circus or the Rivera before that blister on your foot starts thumping and the chill of the cold Nevada air starts penetrating any bare exposed skin. That’s usually when those thirty dollar sweaters with cheesy phrases like “What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, except Herpes!” are a pretty good idea. However, you still manage, the cold doesn’t stop you.

At least not when your stomach is weighed down with Wild Turkey and your nervous system is being bombarded with stimuli from blinking/rotating/flashing neon lights, and noise coming from whores, gamblers, club hustlers and little Mexicans pawning off handfuls of slut cards on you, which I welcomly appliquéd. Nevertheless, enough time passes and the clock turns whatever, and the voyage back to your room begins. If you’re a lucky one, you crawl back to a casino on the strip and take an elevator up to your floor, maybe with a particular lady, and scramble to the door of you room. But for many, it’s a matter of climbing into the back of a stingy, and often worn, cab or hustling down the strip to a shuttle pick up. At which point the voyage ends with a walk to a condo timeshare or maybe a cheap motel. That’s when the reality of the desert truly kicks up, after all, no longer are you feeling the warm sensation that was radiating off the neon lights that circle, surround, and straddle the strip. Now, all that is left is the cold air and that thin shirt you thought looked good at the start of you adventure so many hours ago.

Needless to say, when that cab turns onto Tropicana Ave with the strip, at least temporarily, in the rear-view mirror, and the rays from the neon walls start to shrink more and more, it becomes obvious that you’re veering off the beaten trail and slowly secluding yourself back into a place of clear thoughts and perhaps rational thinking. To many that signals the end of the night, but for a few, maybe that’s why they came out here in the first place.
I didn’t come here just for the atmosphere that luresyoung partiers to this populated stretch of desert; I did it for the same moments I’ve experienced in every other place I’ve traveled this year. For that moment, when I think to myself, “This was worth it, this is something special”.

I’ve grown up my whole life within 15 minutes of a beach, so I have seen a lot of sunrises. When I woke up early on Thursday morning, the morning after my stroll on the strip, I took my bag of oranges and my Itouch to a staircase on the side of the time share, that way my teammates wouldn’t be disturbed. I found a seat at the turn of a stair case, sat down, and typed away, like I always do on these little trips, while I feverishly went after my oranges. The other vacationers would’ve thought I was a freak for sitting on the dirty concrete step, out in the early morning, going at these pieces of fruit like I was on P.C.P. In fact, one older couple started up the staircase, but turned back once they found me sitting on my perch on top of stairs. The fruit only lasted so long and the story I was typing was finished, or so I thought, and then the eventual sunrise rise began. I was interested in taking in the light of the day in hope of an epiphany or some sort of revelation, but I did so also because I locked myself out of the room and didn’t have a choice. I climbed up a few levels and got a clear view of the phenomenon. I leaned over the rail, watching the warm orange and yellow light illuminating from the star as it matched up against the red and soft orange clay layers on the mountains, their peaks creating shadows on the bedrock underneath the cliffs. Something I will never forget and surely, couldn’t capture in my description. It made me think about how lucky I felt to have traveled this past year, the memories I had made, the friendships I had formed, and the season my teammates and I were having on the NPPL circuit. For all of things I had felt thankful for, there was paintball, friends, and family to thank for it. As I watched the sun lift further into the sky, I felt clarity, relief, and finally some sort of warmth.
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Last edited by 131SteckTastic131; 05-02-2012 at 02:41 PM..
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  #24  
Old 01-20-2014, 09:07 AM
131SteckTastic131 131SteckTastic131 is offline
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damn, reading these again really makes me miss you guys. Fuck, i'm glad we have these memories together! I need to show my face more!
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