A Motivating Story
Or some parts of it are motivating, or I think so.
This is not my original creation. I heard it from someone else, and am writing it in my own words.
This story is about a sperm — a handicapped sperm who had given up on life.
The sperm with the disability, let’s call him D, used to spend his time alone, and was almost always depressed.
So this very strong sperm (perhaps the strongest sperm in the business) and with many friends, almost all of them almost as strong as him, noticed this handicapped, depressed, and lonely old sperm, while his friends were laughing with him. Let’s call him L, his friends consider him a true leader.
L swims up to D and starts the conversation: Hey, what’s up, old man?
“Nothing much”, D unenthusiastically.
What are you so sad about?
Why do you want to know? You can’t help.
How can you be sure of that? You can only be sure if you explain the problem, and if I can’t help you, right?
Ok, do you see I am handicapped? You are too young to feel the rush, and excitement sperms like me feel when they mature. You have probably seen sperm racing. I don’t compete with them, because I know I can’t win.
So you gave up without even trying, and are now waiting for your death like a loser?
Exactly.
That’s messed up. But you are right, I haven’t felt the desire yet, and it might be a while before I or my friends feel it. But guess what, I will help you if it’s the last thing I do. Wait for the right time.
L swam to his friends and explained the situation and his mission. They all joined the cause.
As if on cue, the mature sperms started going crazy. The race has begun, the only race that matters.
L saw this and shouted to D: Your time to shine old man, get your couch-loving ass moving; before turning to his friends.
Brothers and sisters, it’s do-or-die time!
The gang formed a wall, blocking the sperms participating in the race.
D saw the wall and saw hope.
My time to shine, all right, he muttered and swam as fast as he could, but still at a snail’s pace. Well, a lot slower than a snail, actually.
What should have been a sprint for other sperms was a marathon for D.
As time passed, the participants were going crazy, desperate to win.
HODL!, L shouted. You got this, keep going, old man.
We can’t hold them much longer, one of the gang members confessed.
The cause is bigger than your life, said L in a voice that made the noise from the mayhem around seem like whispers of ants or even smaller creatures. What the F are you afraid of?
His friends were struggling in the fight, but D was facing a struggle possibly tougher than any other sperm had to face. Can’t give up now when I am so close to the finish line, when so many are counting on me.
He finally managed to reach the finish line after what seemed like a lifetime of hard times. Here comes the climax!
He looked outside the gates, a sight he thought he’d never see, and gasped.
Enjoying the view, are you, L was losing his sense of humour. My brothers are dying out here. Go out there and LIVE!
D turned to L looking like the cynic he was meant to be. In the end, just like my life, this was pointless as well.
WTF are you talking about, L was in no mood for puzzles.
D smiled a joyless smile: The bastard is masturbating.
