Day Three. Kickboxing.

I should point out that I'm writing this on the morning after Day Three. Being too tired to type anything coherent I decided to sleep on it and write in the morning. 

My body is sore right now; yesterday I was in pain. Although yesterday turned out not to be as productive, I did accomplish an important task during the evening. I worked on my boxing with Alex. This is an area that I need tremendous improvement on. I enjoy Jiu Jitsu and I find the moves come naturally to me with practice, but I have yet to find any comfort with standup fighting. Alex tells me that I have the technique down, but not the engagement. As anyone who's new to fighting would tell you, it takes a lot of courage to overcome the fear of punching (or kicking) back. The moment you punch you leave an opening for the opponent to hit you back, if they're faster or have a longer reach. And if you're not confident in your own strikes, you just curl into yourself in defense without throwing a single hit. I did this, and I paid for it. Like a punching bag. 

I didn't have time to apply for anything yesterday, but I did do a bit of reading. I finished the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Afterwards I contemplated writing stories again. The creative juices within me were boiling. I was inspired by this bee who happened to find itself in my room. It was surely on a voyage of exploration! I thought of this, and thought what a wonderful story it would make. I had many ideas I want to write down, but haven't had enough time. Now I do. Yet I feel there's never enough time. 

I am pummeled and beaten, and through pain and tears I stay, but will it be worth it? Is this goal too far fetched? I've boasted after I've climbed small hills before; I now seek to conquer Everest, but it had killed greater men than I. It has no mercy. It has no sympathy. Maybe I'll break miles before I reach the base.

Captain America.

I feel happy at this moment. It's due to a mix of soothing music and a realization. The latter I'll get to shortly.

I had a pretty good day. Today I bought two comic for myself and ate some Caribbean food for lunch. I bought a Neil Gaiman comic where he depicts Marvel heroes in the 17th Century. It seemed very interesting and being a Gaiman fan I had to purchase it. The second comic was Captain America. I've been really interested in Captain America lately. I'm not sure why. He lacks any superpowers, and is a rugged, manly hero, much like Batman. But unlike Batman he lacks the complicated mental issues and moral battles. I like how simple and straightforward he is. He's the archetypal hero. He's also iconic. He was created during the latter years of World War II. Almost as a joke, he would come to represent the American will. Even his name was not to be taken seriously. After the War no one really cared for this character, so he disappeared from comics. But they brought him back to life in the 80s or something. They made some story like he was frozen in time and they revived him again. Anyhow, I admire his iconic image. And who could not love his awesome shield? It's indestructible! Reading this comic and listening to my soothing music is making me happy right now. It's moments like this that make me forget about my work.

I hate my work, so I really look forward to these weekends. The past work week was especially difficult for me. A series of e-mails from someone came and threw my mind off balance for a while. In a way I expected this to come. I wrote a poem about this many blog entries ago, and it happened just as I predicted. I was beaten down to the ground, and as I tried to get back up, I was crushed into a pulp. Well, I deserve it. I think what bothered me most is how I never have enough courage -- or maybe skill -- to fight back. I don't know why I don't fight back. I never do when it comes to women. I'm always apologizing, always accepting blame. Maybe because I value friendship at the cost of anything, even my pride. I would do anything to minimize the damage and salvage the friendship. In the end I'm left feeling empty and weak, like a loser. I think that's something that has always bothered me about my past. I always lose every argument. That's something that bothered me about my previous relationship. I'm wrong, even when I know I'm right. I accept defeat. But this builds frustration in my head, and I end up feeling like I missed a chance. I end up feeling like a loser. It results in that low-self-confidence issue which has often plagued me. People take advantage of me, I know this. Maybe I don't want to hurt the people I love. Maybe I don't know enough words? Me no speak English.

During the Spider Man series there was a period where he was transported into a strange universe to fight in an epic battle. This battle would pit the best heroes versus the best villains. It was an ultimate battle to discover who was the best in the universe or something. I never read the comic, but I saw the episodes from the Cartoon. On one side it was Spiderman, Iron Man, X-Men, etc. On the other side it was Dr. Doom, Carnage, Dr. Octopus, the Lizard, etc. It was an epic battle and Spiderman's leadership saw that the good guys won in the end. He was transported once again out of this world and into some limbo dimension where Madam Webb explained everything to him. But the onus of it was that he could not tell anyone about this war. Once he's returned back into his normal life his memory would be erased, as will all the other superheros' and villains'. This would be known as the Secret Wars.

None of my friends knew of the series of e-mails that took place that week. It was my own Secret War. I wanted to fight it myself. To be honest, I didn't think it would turn out badly as it did. I know I'm the type to often lament and pour out all my feelings in a lengthy blog entry, but I wanted to keep silent during that time. It was only after a week had passed that I told anyone of it.

... She's like an immovable wall. But I tried my best.

Oh, as for that realization I spoke of earlier: I realize that I'm quite blessed, in many ways. I have a sound mind free from many mental problems others suffer from. I have a functioning body free of any diseases, disabilities, or other ailments. My family is alive and well, which cannot be said about every other family. I have great friends who love me and take me out to do things I would not otherwise do! I have my trusty steed (the Volvo). I have my strength and determination, which keeps me going even through the worst. Just like Captain America! Um, where was I? So I feel blessed that I have my lot in life. It's not much, and I could complain, but it could be a lot worse. And I could struggle to achieve what I have now, with a lot less. Despite all this shit I complain about, I feel lucky to be me.

Ian Smith.

I love Ian Smith's cricket commentary. The guy's so alive and passionate. He gets mad at the slightest thing. I'm feeling happier right now. Today was a rainy day and I loved that. I love rainy days. They bring back wonderful memories. And maybe that was the problem. But I'm well now, and cricket had a part to play in that. The New Zealand Black Caps are playing the Aussies tonight. I think this is their 2nd ODI game this tour. I love getting mad with Ian Smith, he says exactly what I'm thinking. I love Dan Vettori, but man, the guy's gotta be more responsible for himself. As a captain you have to know when to settle down and bat mindfully. He really did throw away his wicket tonight. It's disappointing. As a result the Black Caps really had to scrape the bottom of the barrel to get the 241 they ended up with. On the plus side the bowling side is having a whole lot of luck. Two dismissals due to bad umpiring calls. And both too ridiculous to err. As much as I dislike the Aussies, it hurts to see that.

I've recovered quite well from the cold. I'm at 80% health. I think this recovery was long overdue though. Had I taken lots more liquids and more hours of sleep, I would've been this well many days ago. And I could've made it to Wednesday's classes. Oh well. Tomorrow I've got MMA and I'm looking forward to go. I feel as if I haven't kicked ass for ages and I've got the urge to kill! Hopefully I'll be able to jog afterwards too. I want to practice running outside now. My fat-loss regiment is working well, and I think adding long-distance running to my bill should just keep the process going.

I found my copy of Moby Dick in my drawer. After Watership Down I've been searching for a good book. I didn't finish Moby Dick, but I've got through about 160 pages of it a couple of years ago. Should I re-start the book, or continue from where I left off? It's not as if I've forgotten everything. The start was pretty boring anyways.

I really should sleep now. It's pretty damned late. But, fuck, I wanna see the Kiwis pull this shit off tonight. I know they can win this!

Hungarian Sausages.

Stupid Bangladesh. Why do I always cheer for the underdog? I just get my hopes up only to have them shattered into smithereens. Now I've focussed my attention onto the West Indies game against Australia. It's not a Test, just a one-day game, so it's outcome wouldn't matter as much to me. Where is Chanderpaul? He and Chris Gayle hold this team together. And out of the two it's Chanderpaul who's reliable. I have nothing to say about the bowlers.

I've completed my snowboarding gear purchases. I have the whole set now: snow-pants, water-proof jacket, goggles, gloves, and toque. Am I excited? I'd say I'm looking forward to it. I don't know what to expect. And this lack of expectation, lack of something to look forward to, might be what's abating my excitement. What will happen on Saturday? It all seems like a passing dream. I wasn't even sure I was going but a week ago. The last few days I've been running about purchasing items from a rough gear list; not knowing where to go, what to look for. And now I'm set, awaiting the morning I'd set off, with little planning or any idea of how I'd get there. It all seems loosely attached, lacking certainty and determination.

I enjoyed the Hungarian sausages I bought today. Mmm, I could still taste it in my breath. The chunks of fat, compactly placed in between the flavoured meat, melted on my tongue after every bite. *droooool* I declare this to be the sausage of the month. I would like to try it colder next time, without frying it. There was another sausage I bought, I forgot the name of it, but I think it must've been Polish. It wasn't as flavourful, so it should be used in conjunction with another food. I will use it in sandwiches, I think. I will visit Starsky's again very soon. I want to try a new sausage every visit. Next time I will see if I can buy some Haaring.

On a final note: life seems dull and dreary without Watership Down. Finishing the book felt like closing up a part of my life. It had been with me throughout these integral months of change. The tales of Hazel, Fiver, and Bigwig paralleled my own adventures. When they struggled it seemed I too struggled alongside them. We shared the same battles, the same fears, the same losses, and the same gains. We shared the burdens. We picked our courage from the same pit. When Hazel's heart beat as he hid in the ditch, from the farmer's gun, my heart beat with his. I think what I loved so much about this book is the utter audaciousness of their missions, the lack of a clear plan, and the sheer determination that saw them through to the end. Then there were the straight-forward missions. No matter how simple the idea was, and however minuscule they envisioned the danger to be, something always went wrong. They held firm to the faith that luck was on their side, even when it was running thin. They pulled from a shallow pool of courage, even when it was thought to be dry. I found my inspiration there.

The lull.

Today is a day of rest for me, before the fury of tomorrow.

Watership Down is engaging me in a way no book ever has. I passed what felt like a climax, but I know the end is far from here. I fear what might happen to the rabbits. They came out very luckily, but they might not be so lucky to escape death a second time. Never in my life have I been so worried for the fate of fictitious rabbits. I love them all dearly, but I fear that love will work against me; I fear one of my favourites will die before the end.

A recent conversation with a friend got me thinking about Blue Whales again. They're renewing themselves in my mind as my favourite animal. They are the biggest animal in the history of the Earth. They weight about 150 tons and are about 100 feet long (which is more than the length of two city buses). They are majestic and beautiful, having an almost hydrodynamic body, made perfect for swimming across their oceanic universe. Often found alone or in pairs, they inhabit all parts of the Earth's oceans. I love their solitude and loyalty. And their large size and patience reminds me of myself.

I'm feeling myself being pulled by my friends. No matter how nonpartisan I try to be I seem to be offending someone. I just want to love freely, to everyone in my life, why must I be pulled into their personal politics? A part of me fears that in the end I might lose them all, if I don't pick a side now. Choosing between loved ones, it's a game I don't want to play again.

I've rested the entire day today and I'm resting still tonight. Tomorrow will be a big day for me: work, kickboxing, and then MMA. I will be lucky to come out alive in the end. No, I am made of tougher stuff. I have steel determination.