Fight Club

I don't know what happened.
Fragments of conversations come back .
"Two bottles ? That's nothing !He drinks at least four to get high and then fucks me and passes out "

Its four in the morning.Its cold.I'm shivering.
     "What! Four ! No Way ! I pass out at two.How does he even manage to get it up after four ? "

Now I'm shivering uncontrollably.
                               Some thing's wrong.This is not me.I'm not there, but I can taste the squalid conditions of the dingy dark dirty cramped room I'm in , hear the smell of despair mixed with alcohol and paint thinner fumes and the sight of the distant rumblings of a local train go past vibrate in my bones.

Things go hazy.

                     "I'll show you how " he says and climbs on me, straddling  me , and then starts hitting me.
Too confused I do nothing.
I don't even know this guy, let alone know why he is hitting me , or sitting on my back.
Then I  feel no pain but only the chilling realization of his teeth sink into my flesh.This  gets me in a  frenzy.I'm numb and  my heart is racing...

Things go hazy...I blackout.

                        Now I see him on the ground.He's not moving.There's blood all over, I'm not sure whose.My jaw is hurting like hell.

                                                          I've never been in fights.

I'm not a fighter.Someday though I'd like to get into a fight with no consequences to faces afterwards.Something like fight club shit, beat the crap out of each other and then grab a beer later.No consequences, no regrets .Only release.

                                 Since my childhood , I've been only in two fights.Technically only one fight.
Ok ok , none of them were fights.Are you happy now ?
                          I punched a classmate for taking something from me(I don't remember what).I punched his soft stomach and watched him crumple down in horror.I hadn't expected such a dramatic reaction.
                  Five raps on the knuckles , kneeling down in front of the entire school , and an apology note from my parents - This was my punishment.
For years I was afraid the police would arrest me for assault.
This was in fourth grade.

The other fight was not a fight.It was me getting beaten up.
A bully , a classmate of mine , who was bored and wanted to have some fun came upto me and slapped me for throwing a stone at him(which I didn't).He was bigger than me and stronger than me, hell , he was the captain of the class kabaddi team and a black belt in karate.And I was just another geeky underweight runt with combed oily hair and a bad case of acne.

No, I was not just another geeky underweight runt .
I was a geeky underweight runt with a death wish.

I slapped him back and said that I didn't throw the stone at him and now we were even.
He grinned at me - a vicious grin that said , 'Boy , you just made my day '

As far as I was concerned we were even.I turned my back and started walking away.

Two words.

Bad Move.

I felt a station wagon crash into me.
                                                               Next thing I know I'm pinned against the wall by my collar and people are cheering on raucously.It was a free period and the entire class was there , my friends and all , but they were not going to take sides that day.
Even at the age of thirteen fear of death trumps over virtues like bonds of friendship, loyalty and of solidarity.
So they watched on,for violence,real or imagined (and in this case being real)was still exciting.
                                 And I refused to fight.
                                                            I said that I would not fight because we were even.At the time I was not worried about death, maiming injuries or  worse - the loss of face.I was concerned with being right.He had  hit me unjustly and I hit him back.We were even.
Case closed.
It was that simple.
Only it wasn't.
He had smelled blood and now he wanted to taste it.

But he kept pushing me all over, taunting me, baiting me to attack.
But I was a stuck record.
I repeated that we were even and I wouldn't fight.Over and over again.

So for the grand finale, he pushed me hard, over the stairs.
It was a five foot drop onto sand ,gravel and small rocks.

My life did not flash by me.
I did not backpedal in
slow motion screaming
 "NOOOOOOOO! "....
I didn't even fall down.

A classmate caught me before I went over.The bully left in disgust.
He had better things to do .

In his mind , there was nothing worse than a pacifist geek- oh there was !
a pacifist pimply underweight runty geek.
And I'd live another day, with minor bruises to my body and ego.

This was eight grade.

But this was different.
                             The fight was different.
                                                              The level of cruelty was different.
           There I was in a small dark dirty room with three others, three strangers.These were not familiar faces.I've never seen them before - If I knew how to , I'd sketch their faces  , but I'm sure they did not belong, or rather , I did not belong - it was not my world, not my life, not my consciousness that I had glimpsed upon.Now their faces are crumbling away in the sands of time and soon will be  forever lost in the black holes of memories.

I bit him back.
                      He bit me and in panic I bit him back, I'm not sure where , but I could feel the softness of his flesh yield to the relentless pressure of my jaws.
                          In the end I won , because I got the softer spot and held on to it.The blood was his, and I had tasted it.
I felt sick.

I woke up with a racing heart and a throbbing jaw and realized that it was only a dream.
As I woke up, it all seemed real-but not a part of my reality .What I glimpsed was another place, another time, another life.A glimpse through a dream portal to a somewhere that I did not belong to .

It was four in the morning.I was shivering again.
Tried to go back to sleep , but old memories kept coming back.
The boy who I punched in fourth grade is now a doctor.He promised that he'll kill himself by the age of thirty.
Five more years to go.

I'm waiting.

To see which one of us will last lonnger.

The bully who nearly killed me in eight grade failed to get through highschool .Twice.
Now he is an engineering student somewhere thanks to a generous donation to the college coffers by his rich dad.
The bully is now hitting on a pretty clasmate of mine.She was the kind of girl that every boy in the class had a crush on.
I suppose I had one too.
(Now I realize that every class has a girl like that and she usually ends up breaking everyone's heart).
                                      I was hitting on her too, but stopped at once  when I saw that the bully was hitting on her.Anyways she seems to be more receptive to him than me.What is it with girls and their fascination with bad boys, jerks and losers ?

And today , I woke up with an aching jaw and a bad dream vaguely tasting blood.
I hate insomnia and the dreams it cooks up.
I went up to the mirror to check myself.
                                     My heart skipped a beat as I saw it on my lower back near my left kidney.They were perfect half moon shaped and had a characteristic jagged serrated imprint deeply etched on my skin.

They were bite marks.

untitled post

Its been a week since I've come home now.

I've been spending most of my time avoiding all possible human contact, watching too much telivision and turning my brain into mush,taking long walks with my dog while drowining myself in alternative rock, nuzzling my cats soft furry belly and practising the art of losing myself in the realm of written words.

My currrent poison:Enchantress Of Florence by Salman Rushdie...a world where machiavelli and akbar are seduced by Qara Koz, Lady Black Eyes, a world where imaginary queens reign over the hearts of kings and where art and the artist meld and where lady love is as fickle as she must be ...I am sipping at it , slowly , and then rereading passages , and chewing on the sentences and roasting them in my head...Mmmm...I can taste the words...Can you ?

I know I haven't called you.You deserve much better.

I'm just not ready to face you .

I'm not ready to face humanity , and what it requires(and what it lacks )

I'm just not ready...

Hope you can understand.

RIP George Carlin

It is a sad day for comedy.

George Carlin, legendary comedian, Mr. Conductor, Rufus ("Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure"), and noted social commentator, has died of heart failure at the age of 71.

An influential comedian, his career has spanned over 60 years. He is regarded as being one of the greatest comedians to ever live, a cultural icon, and has even affected US Law See F.C.C vs Pacifica

 

This was the first thing that I read from George Carlin...And I was a fan forever...

We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. These are the
days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one-
night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything. It is
a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing
in the stockroom. Remember, spend some time with your loved
ones, because they are not going to be around forever. Give time
to love, give time to speak, and give time to share the precious
moment. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take,
but by the moments that take our breath away... 

-George Carlin

 

 

Rest In Peace , George.

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Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind...

I want to forget everything I know . I want to start all over again.

Ignorance is bliss.

Antwerpen

This was the ship that I just got off from.
She's a beauty ain't she ?

Jeff Dunham - Achmed the Dead Terrorist

Funny stuff !

Flirtmonster

I was shopping recently in bontang and I was trying to return an inverter back(wrong voltage), but I was not making any headway because while I was talking in english(sadly the only foriegn language I'm profecient in) the salesgirl was talking in bahasa Indonesia, of which I know odd phrases like salamat pagi, terima kasih, nasi goreng etc, but nothing conversational ...
So, finally exasperated , I told her in my best pig english "Me no speak Indonesian !"
She said smilingly "Me speak english very little "

Drat !

Then I asked for the manager, who luckily spoke some english.

Then as I spoke to the manager , he translated back to her.

Great !

Then I realised that I hadn't even seen her face properly.
So I did.
She was short, fair, dense curly hair and had a defiant but small moustache[unlike the one Ms.J sports !:)) ] which looked very cute on her.
She reminded me of a cousin back home, so I told her.
I told her how Indian she looked, how beautiful she was ,how she could easily be in the movie business,how she had a great aura(it was a rare shade of gold,conical and swirling lazily over her head), how cute her nose was,etc etc...
                 I realised that even when I didn't know her name nor spoke the same language, I was talking to her and making her smile , all the time with the manager was translating.
 In short I was flirting !
Shamelessly !
GAAAH ! I've become a Flirtmonster ! Help me ! Somebody Stop me !

I blame it all on testosterone.

 I'm on a new diet called testosterone diet.It's the only way I can safely increase my body weight , increase my muscle mass as opposed to increasing my  body fat.
It includes plenty nuts (no, not those kind!) , dry fruits and legumes (sadly making me flatulent !) and free weight exercises like dead lifts , squats and pushups and stuff and abstinence.This is supposed to increase my natural testosterone levels .

The effects are that my appetite has expanded beyond measure. Before I was constantly dozing. Now I have enough energy for daily workouts and strict work schedules. With the additional  testosterone , I  feel better to recover from life's curveballs, more persistant, more alive. With the testosterone, I feel more energy.

Testosterone, oddly enough, is a chemical closely related to cholesterol. It was first isolated by a Dutch scientist in 1935 from mice testicles and successfully synthesized by the German biologist Adolf Butenandt. Although testosterone is often thought of as the definition of maleness, both men and women produce it. Men produce it in their testicles; women produce it in their ovaries and adrenal glands. The male body converts some testosterone to estradiol, a female hormone, and the female body has receptors for testosterone, just as the male body does. That's why women who want to change their sex(why would you want to be a man ?) are injected with testosterone and develop male characteristics, like deeper voices, facial hair and even baldness. The central biological difference between adult men and women, then, is not that men have testosterone and women don't. It's that men produce much, much more of it than women do. An average woman has 40 to 60 nanograms of testosterone in a deciliter of blood plasma. An average man has 300 to 1,000 nanograms per deciliter.

Testosterone's effects start early -- really early. At conception, every embryo is female and unless hormonally altered will remain so. You need testosterone to turn a fetus with a Y chromosome into a real boy, to masculinize his brain and body. Men experience a flood of testosterone twice in their lives: in the womb about six weeks after conception and at puberty. The first fetal burst primes the brain and the body, endowing male fetuses with the instinctual knowledge of how to respond to later testosterone surges. The second, more familiar adolescent rush -- squeaky voices, facial hair and all -- completes the process.

The effect of testosterone is systemic. It engenders both the brain and the body. Apart from the obvious genital distinction, other differences between men's and women's bodies reflect this: body hair, the ratio of muscle to fat, upper-body strength and so on. But testosterone leads to behavioral differences as well. Since it is unethical to experiment with human embryos by altering hormonal balances, much of the evidence for this idea is based on research conducted on animals. A Stanford research group, for example, as reported in Deborah Blum's book "Sex on the Brain," injected newborn female rats with testosterone. Not only did the female rats develop penises from their clitorises, but they also appeared fully aware of how to use them.

But do not confuse testosterone with Popeye's spinach.Testosterone levels will rise when the situation warrants it. Survival is the priority." So in cases of danger, of war, the testosterone levels increase. When in a strip club or viewing a porno website, testosterone levels also rise. Men with higher testosterone achieve psychological dominance, have high self esteem, and move through the world with natural confidence.Testosterone is clearly correlated in both men and women with psychological dominance, confident physicality and high self-esteem. In most combative, competitive environments, especially physical ones, the person with the most testosterone wins. Put any two men in a room together and the one with more testosterone will tend to dominate the interaction.

The relatively new science of evolutionary psychology offers perhaps the best explanation for why that's not the case in humans. For neo-Darwinians, the aggressive and sexual aspects of testosterone are related to the division of labor among hunter-gatherers in our ancient but formative evolutionary past. This division -- men in general hunted, women in general gathered -- favored differing levels of testosterone. Women need some testosterone -- for self-defense, occasional risk-taking, strength -- but not as much as men. Men use it to increase their potential to defeat rivals, respond to physical threats in strange environments, maximize their physical attractiveness, prompt them to spread their genes as widely as possible and defend their home if necessary.

But the problem with testoserone is that it makes me horny...So horny that I begin to shamelessly flirt with any woman.So if I'm not flirting with you , and you dont have a dick , then I'm repelled by you , you possibly are the ugliest thing I've evr seen on this side of the galaxy (I've travelled a lot ) , or have a personality defect that makes me puke my guts out...

                             But testosterone makes everyone horny, not just me .If there's one substance that ultimately makes it possible to get turned on in the first place, testosterone is probably it. "When testosterone is gone, says UCLA's Berman, for whatever reason — aging, medication — men experience erection and libido problems." Restore the testosterone, and you usually fix those problems.The study, published in 2000 in the New England Journal of Medicine, reported that many of the women who, like Washington, were on real testosterone had more sexual fantasies and more sex and masturbated more than they had before. But so, albeit to a lesser extent, did women who wore patches with no testosterone at all. For women suffering from lost libido, the placebo effect was almost as strong as that of the hormone. In short, the mere belief that the treatment would rekindle sexual desire was often enough to turn up the heat.

Here's the thing though.Natural testosterone is the best.Artificial testosterone boosts are unhealthy and dangerous and have long term damage to your system.So Dont go on injecting shit or pop shitty pills in your system for the sake of a quick fix or vanity.It is simply not worth it.
Oh yeah , and remember , testosterone makes you horny.So be careful and responsible.

p.s.
                 Well I'm trying rein in myself these days, by having some constructive and achievable goals..I've started lifting weights.
My body weight is 68 kg, so now I can be officially called a 150 lb weakling.
I started benching and doing heavy squats.I began with (ok dont laugh) 20 kg weights and now I have gone up to 50 kgs(110 lb) .My  next goal is to lift my own body weight , which is to bench press 150 lb.
Wish me luck.

 

Attachment: GF APPLICATION.pdf