Joe.
01-15-07, 9:21 pm
Greetings my fellow brothers. I would like to introduce myself, call me Joe. I am here to tell you of a story of how I have and continue to be the bigger person we all strive to be everyday. I am sure you have all experienced somewhat similar experiences as I am about to share. The birth of the animal within. The animal within me was triggered mainly by two factors in my life. This is my story, this is my life and here's the tip of the iceberg...
Back in junior high, I was a a tiny dog, very much like how all us started this journey. Naked, with no body armor. I was picked on and ridiculed by the ones who considered themselves "superior" at the time. I took all the pain and suffering in quietly as any small dog would. Then high school came about. Gr.10 was the first epoch of my life. I was still new and fresh into this world, still finding where I belonged. Unfortunately, froshing was and still is an issue when you're a freshman. I will never forget the day me and my fellow peers were taken into that corner and froshed until we could barely walk. A beating as we would like to call it. As I stared at the group walking away and laughing, I swore to myself that no one shall be allowed to be mistreated like this in my time as a high school student. I unlocked the cage that the animal within me resided in with the bloody key that they have left me with. I spent grueling hours of blood, sweat and tears everyday afterschool in the dingy gym that our school owned. The same group also worked out in that gym, luckily for me. They decided to remain with the ridicules and taunts when I picked up the 10lb weights to curl with. "You stupid pussy, you'll never get big lifting 10lbs" the group said as they curled their 25lbs. Instead of retaliation, I chose to be the bigger man. I kept it in and decided to use that anger and frustration and channelled them upon the weights. Everyday, every week I would go into that hellhole with the rusted weights and beat the living tar out of myself. 10lbs went to 15lb. 15lbs went to 20. 20lbs went to 25lbs. 25lbs. Went to 35lbs. 35lbs went to 40lb. Slowly I had climbed that ladder, but as the weeks of progression went by, the arms along with the body began to tell its story. My body grew an armor for itself over time. The ironic part is the same group remained curling their 25lbs...
I remained at this pace of slowly feeding the animal with the iron and pain that made it stronger with the years that came by. I joined the football team to further test myself. Gr.12 rolled around the corner and the new batch of Gr.10 kids have finally arrived. Being a senior and knowing what it was like being trampled on by seniority, I had kept that promise I made. For every froshing that I had heard of, I approached my fellow Gr.12ers responsible and made sure that karma played its role. I wasn't out looking for a fight, barked very little but if it got down to it I can fight. I didn't do it in such fashion of bells and whisltes neither did I need or want a cliche team of super heroes. I caught these suckers when they were alone. In the parking lot, in the locker room, where they aren't so bold without their peer support. I reiterated to each of them that as long as I am in that school, abuse of the younger group will not be tolerated. They need their space to learn how to walk on their own two feet, to find a where they belong and having fear on their shoulder won't help them.
The second epoch of my journey is my father. I'm sure I share this story amongst many of you here. The classic son and father will never get along story. See my pops lost his own father at a young age. So he grew up without a father figure to mentor. Being his son, he expects me to stand up on my own feet just like he did. But the problem is he isn't dead himself, he's there to be a father. Yet I receive words a son would never wish to hear from his own creators mouth. Words that continually pierce the heart of a man which he never thought he owned. Its almost funny to me because me and him are exactly alike. Two short stocky motherfuckers that will not take shit from anyone, not even himself. So put the two together and picture judgement day as a typical monday. That's ok though, he didn't grow up with one himself so his anger and pain is somewhat understandable and forgivable.
My parents got into an arguement this one instance and I said whatever just another agruement. I didn't let it bother me until I saw something that I have never seen before. My dad is a family man, he'll die for his family, but when I saw him lay a hand on my own mother that's when shit hit the fan. My vision of the world went red. My mind went berserk and I became feral. I would admit myself that what I did was probably wrong, a son should never pumel his own father let alone throw him into the closet and let fists fly everywhere. And the best part is he's been in Shotokan and I've been in kickboxing for the same amount of time. I will never forget that moment when the animal inside me was fully released. Freedom. I respect my father and love him to death but nobody is allowed to lay a hand on the person that carried me for 9 months. Don't get me wrong either, today me and my father have a closer bond and are better friends than before. We both realize that in the end family is all you've got. The animal within still resides in me. He's summoned only when necessary. The beast has to be, for I fear of what he's capable of when he's set loose, only I carry the key.
Here's my introductory outro. Help a fellow brother out in need. Root for the skinny/fat guys struggling in the beginning. Show them the path of a true warrior. You've chosen this lifestyle, make your name a legend. Don't let nobody tell you what to hope and to fear for. Don't ever let anyone tell you how its gonna be. Don't ever be a shadow. Don't ever give up. Fall on your ass as many times as it will take, just always get back up. Mentally and physically. Be the bigger person. Be who you wanna be. Be the creator of your destiny. Be an Animal...
Back in junior high, I was a a tiny dog, very much like how all us started this journey. Naked, with no body armor. I was picked on and ridiculed by the ones who considered themselves "superior" at the time. I took all the pain and suffering in quietly as any small dog would. Then high school came about. Gr.10 was the first epoch of my life. I was still new and fresh into this world, still finding where I belonged. Unfortunately, froshing was and still is an issue when you're a freshman. I will never forget the day me and my fellow peers were taken into that corner and froshed until we could barely walk. A beating as we would like to call it. As I stared at the group walking away and laughing, I swore to myself that no one shall be allowed to be mistreated like this in my time as a high school student. I unlocked the cage that the animal within me resided in with the bloody key that they have left me with. I spent grueling hours of blood, sweat and tears everyday afterschool in the dingy gym that our school owned. The same group also worked out in that gym, luckily for me. They decided to remain with the ridicules and taunts when I picked up the 10lb weights to curl with. "You stupid pussy, you'll never get big lifting 10lbs" the group said as they curled their 25lbs. Instead of retaliation, I chose to be the bigger man. I kept it in and decided to use that anger and frustration and channelled them upon the weights. Everyday, every week I would go into that hellhole with the rusted weights and beat the living tar out of myself. 10lbs went to 15lb. 15lbs went to 20. 20lbs went to 25lbs. 25lbs. Went to 35lbs. 35lbs went to 40lb. Slowly I had climbed that ladder, but as the weeks of progression went by, the arms along with the body began to tell its story. My body grew an armor for itself over time. The ironic part is the same group remained curling their 25lbs...
I remained at this pace of slowly feeding the animal with the iron and pain that made it stronger with the years that came by. I joined the football team to further test myself. Gr.12 rolled around the corner and the new batch of Gr.10 kids have finally arrived. Being a senior and knowing what it was like being trampled on by seniority, I had kept that promise I made. For every froshing that I had heard of, I approached my fellow Gr.12ers responsible and made sure that karma played its role. I wasn't out looking for a fight, barked very little but if it got down to it I can fight. I didn't do it in such fashion of bells and whisltes neither did I need or want a cliche team of super heroes. I caught these suckers when they were alone. In the parking lot, in the locker room, where they aren't so bold without their peer support. I reiterated to each of them that as long as I am in that school, abuse of the younger group will not be tolerated. They need their space to learn how to walk on their own two feet, to find a where they belong and having fear on their shoulder won't help them.
The second epoch of my journey is my father. I'm sure I share this story amongst many of you here. The classic son and father will never get along story. See my pops lost his own father at a young age. So he grew up without a father figure to mentor. Being his son, he expects me to stand up on my own feet just like he did. But the problem is he isn't dead himself, he's there to be a father. Yet I receive words a son would never wish to hear from his own creators mouth. Words that continually pierce the heart of a man which he never thought he owned. Its almost funny to me because me and him are exactly alike. Two short stocky motherfuckers that will not take shit from anyone, not even himself. So put the two together and picture judgement day as a typical monday. That's ok though, he didn't grow up with one himself so his anger and pain is somewhat understandable and forgivable.
My parents got into an arguement this one instance and I said whatever just another agruement. I didn't let it bother me until I saw something that I have never seen before. My dad is a family man, he'll die for his family, but when I saw him lay a hand on my own mother that's when shit hit the fan. My vision of the world went red. My mind went berserk and I became feral. I would admit myself that what I did was probably wrong, a son should never pumel his own father let alone throw him into the closet and let fists fly everywhere. And the best part is he's been in Shotokan and I've been in kickboxing for the same amount of time. I will never forget that moment when the animal inside me was fully released. Freedom. I respect my father and love him to death but nobody is allowed to lay a hand on the person that carried me for 9 months. Don't get me wrong either, today me and my father have a closer bond and are better friends than before. We both realize that in the end family is all you've got. The animal within still resides in me. He's summoned only when necessary. The beast has to be, for I fear of what he's capable of when he's set loose, only I carry the key.
Here's my introductory outro. Help a fellow brother out in need. Root for the skinny/fat guys struggling in the beginning. Show them the path of a true warrior. You've chosen this lifestyle, make your name a legend. Don't let nobody tell you what to hope and to fear for. Don't ever let anyone tell you how its gonna be. Don't ever be a shadow. Don't ever give up. Fall on your ass as many times as it will take, just always get back up. Mentally and physically. Be the bigger person. Be who you wanna be. Be the creator of your destiny. Be an Animal...