I have a problem.
I couldn’t think of any other way to start this entry. I won’t waste time on fancy words and eloquent sentences, because I’m a liiiiiiittle bit concerned with my own psychology.
I am obsessed with the idea of becoming a modern-day samurai. I am obsessed with the concept of Yamikaze- treating a city block like a jungle, and climbing, jumping and leaping all over it. I am most definitely obsessed with the idea of getting into a good fight. I dream about it every night. Last night it was Aaron Jenkins. I kicked him in the face, and I have to tell you, it felt damn good. Until the guilt settled in.
Yesterday, Frenchie (whose real name I only just discovered is Ben- known him for years) was teasing me about how easily he could beat me in a fight. Brendan Morphett and I were grappling as part of a skit for Good Friday, to represent apathy. Of course, I whooped his ass, which defeated the purpose, so when Frenchie rocked up, he replaced me. Then he didn’t believe I could take him, and agreed to fight me right there, right then. I raised my fists, but he seemed to be having second thoughts. Instead of killing him on the spot, I just put one leg in behind him and held one arm in front of his chest. He leaned forwards so I didn’t do any crazy asian martial arts shit, and I pulled his feet out from under him and brought him to the ground. In short, I decked him effortlessly. I offered him a hand up, and an apology (for I can never hurt someone intentionally without feeling remorse), but he pushed it away, thinking it was another attack.
I have to get into a fight. I have to have someone beat the shit out of me, before I beat the shit out of them. I need to lose, because my ego’s too damn high, and I don’t want to be the greatest martial artist I’ve ever known. But at present, only Jack has been able to better me in a fist fight, but if legs were involved, I’m pretty sure I’d have the advantage.
I don’t want to be the cause of pain to others. I don’t want to be the bane of misery.
I need to feel the humility of defeat.
I need to feel the sting of a fist against my jaw, or a foot to my stomach.
I need someone to be able to kill me, even if they don’t.
Otherwise, there’s no reason to fight, because the outcome will always be a win. And if there’s no reason to fight, my life becomes a whole lot more empty, because I’m still obsessed with the idea. I need someone to help me break the obsession.
Anyone willing to try?