Reflection, I guess. Nah, but it’ll do.

This entry has no particular purpose, but I felt as if I should write it. So I’ll write, and whatever comes into my head, I’ll let my fingers type out.

Why is my typing so slow? Am I tired or just weakened? I don’t feel tired, but my limbs move so slowly. This is all Gary’s fault. Well, maybe not, but I sparred so intensively that when I came to the last fight of the day, Gary, all I could do was stand there. I literally let him kick me. I kept my guard up but didn’t have the strength to move, and in the last five seconds, I dropped to my knees. Did I do that on purpose? Yes, I did. I didn’t want to stand anymore, it was too much. So I gave in. Pitiful. But I’ll grow stronger, and learn not to push myself so unnecessarily hard. However, before my debilitated state, I blocked one of his kicks and he got careless enough to expose his ribs for a moment. Yeah that was my triumph, that was the trial I set and accomplished. I’m improving so much, and someone told me I’m even better than some of the slack blackbelts. This is what I’ve always wanted, but I am not so arrogant to believe it. I take it as a compliment though and am grateful. I should practice kicking more often, but I’m getting a very good hold on grabs, if you’ll excuse the pun.

I feel guilty. How can I still talk about myself when I’ve done someone such a terrible injustice? Although I doubt this person frequents my blog anymore, I want said person to know I’m sorry, and wish we were on better terms again.

Liam, I’ve also been a bit of a jerk to you. In fact, I’ve been a bit of a jerk to everyone. I swear too much. Yesterday I wouldn’t swear at all. Today, I have a vulgar tongue. It’s awful. And, as school progresses, last year’s problems continue to face me. I am constantly challenged in some form or another to a fight. Acts of supreme idiocy or a display of superiority are challenges to me, challenges I must not rise to. Just because I’ve started learning Taekwondo does not give me the right to exercise violence. And Mr Redden thinks I’m a psychopath as it is. I’m already overwhelmed by chemistry, and it is my promise that if by the end of the week I have not spoken to Mr Tobin about changing teachers, I’ll drop the subject in favour of a study period. Mrs Slawomirsky is going to gut me tomorrow because I haven’t practiced the piano. My knuckle hurts from demonstrating how much it hurt to hit a locker.

I guess I should get going. I’m so tired. But I guess that’s because I tell myself I’m tired. I’ll go make myself a cup of milo, transpose a few bars of music, do whatever else my homework diary orders me to then finish reading Remembering Babylon. Not a bad book that, but I seem to have lost all aptitude for speed reading, which is a euphemism for skim reading. Ah vell. Also, it’s been several weeks since I’ve been genuinely scared of anything. I haven’t had the time to stare out a dark window and imagine what could be staring back. No, believe it or not, I’ve been busy.

At least I’ve talked to Siobhan. Shibi, I’m so sorry. I don’t know if you even like me anymore, but I wish I could have been a better friend to you. And still I feel guilty for the aforementioned person I have so deeply offended. Arrgh. In short, the holidays were a break, but now that school’s resumed, I feel overwhelmed by problems. Only two activities take my mind off them, which is a very bad strategy for dealing with problems. Taekwondo and video games. I also need to talk to Pete. Raph wants me to. And I want to. I’ll see if he’s online, ignore everyone who talks to me, then get that cup of milo. Yeeeargh, good night.

~Me

PS: On reflection, there’s nothing I could have done anyway. I saw Gary’s kick moving, and my brain judged that by the time I reacted it would be too late. Eventually I became too tired to react, knowing I’d be hit anyway. Yes, he’s that fast. He’s the fastest kicker I’ve ever seen in my life. And lucky me, he acknowledged that "We seem to have a thing for each other". In other words, he likes to connect a few of his kicks. Jerk. I’m glad though. Every TKD lesson is a test- how many kicks I can block (the number is increasing) and how many hits I can land. He’s pushing me, and I’m grateful.

PPS: Someone grab my right wrist and see what I do. Heh heh.

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