Left arm up, right arm forward, rush of adrenaline, faster, leg up, turn, leg out, spin, Leg up and around, right arm forward, win, grin, live. Karate. Every time I fight I feel like I’m living. Not when I’m hurting someone. When I’m fighting. Imagine that nothing can touch you. Imagine feeling light on your feet and fast. REALLY fast. Imagine that every time your arm reaches out the person steps back and the next one comes up. Imagine doing that for 20 minutes straight. My kind of heaven. What I like the most is the speed of everything. I always feel amazing when I’m going fast, not moving anywhere exactly but the kind of speed that happens in gymnastics, martial arts, dance, and sometimes sports like basketball.
Draw a line, flip pencil, wipe away mistakes, try again… and again… and again. Sit up after hours, look at it, 3 hours 47 minutes and 32 seconds, thousands of lines, thousands of smudges, thousands of eraser marks. And what a masterpiece. It’s a face of an imaginary character you came up with years ago. Finally you draw them. The very curve of the eyelid makes the eyes follow you. The wrinkles at the corner of the eyes convey happiness. It’s the best work you’ve ever done and you show it to your family and friends but after that you go right to the next piece. It’s a never ending cycle of creation and you spend hours on each piece. It’s the complete opposite of the last one but it’s still amazing in it’s own right.
Step, face forward, raise your voice trying to dramatize it as much as possible, you’re giving a speech to your audience, but you don’t see them. You see a field full of cheering people. You hear finally the cheers forming into words. Long live the king! Long live the king! You’re in your own head, not seeing anything in front of you but at the same time knowing where everything is. Your voice is angry, you’re in a forest and you just found your brother burning your papers in his anger at you. You’re both shouting, you’re both angry and there is nothing good about this scene, but you love it all the same just because of the emotion you can convey and just because your acting and in your own head.
Your fingers fly across the keyboard, once again you are in your own head. But this time there’s no one around you. You’re all alone, your headphones are in, and you have utter control of what happens next. You share this with your friends and family and they love it, some of them say you should do this, you should do this, but you ignore them. This is your world, you have control and no one can change the story you have built. If they try to help you with grammar and mistakes, good for them. If they try to change your characters or your story, or your world then screw them. This is yours and no one else’s. People can enjoy it of course, but they can’t change it. Your fingers continue flying. There’s nothing in your head but the scene you’re currently on. You know nothing of what’s going to happen next but you are excited and ready for what your head comes up with. Sometimes you write about true events like your feelings and share them with some trusted friend. In fact this happens more often than writing stories. You do this every week, but you love it no matter what the subject is, even if it’s for school.
You gaze out the window, but you’re not seeing the trees rushing past, or feel the bump of the road. You see a room you’ve never been in before and you’re with the person you’re in love with. You feel their body pressed up against yours and you feel their breath on your cheek as they tell you everything that happened that day. They sound excited and happy. They are saying they love you and they are putting their head on your shoulder. You feel their hair brushing at your cheek as if it were real. You see the gold flecks in their eyes, just a shade lighter than their usual brown. You love them more than anything in the world and you can tell they share this feeling. You can hear their voice clear as day, smooth with a slight lilt. You are dreaming and you know this but you are content to stay in this world for just a few more minutes until you arrive at your destination. It’s like a very realistic vr that you have utmost control over and you can feel the objects and people rather than just the controller’s.
Ta ta ratatata ta, ta ratatata ratatata ta, the music is in your ears, you feel the beat in your bones and you don’t have to think to stay in time. All you focus on is the music of those around you and the music in front of you. You’re grinning, you love this. The lows and highs, the rhythm of the drums, the call of the trumpets. Most of all you love it all together. You love the song and you could play it over and over and over. You know you’re a musicaholic and if you went a day without it you would feel strung up and tight. You listen to it every day and songs are constantly in your head, even if there in the background.
The past. How things developed. The people. Diplomacy. History. There is nothing to say here that can describe my love for history.
And most importantly… you. All of you. My friends, my family, my teachers, my coaches, my enemies, my councilors.
These are the things that make me who I am. There is many more but this is the basis of my life, my love. I accept who I am. I may be weird. I may be random, I may be unfocused, forgetful, determined, happy, sad, loving, angry.
I AM ME. And that’s all that matters.