The good old days

Its funny how things that you've tried to forget suddenly resurface suddenly out of the blue for no apparent reason.


I remember the first time it happened.

It was so long ago, when we were all small. He was bigger than me, scary.

I can't remember what happened or what was said or done, only the look on his face. Veins popping from the yelling, a little red, his eyes were red.

He came at me like any enraged guy in a fit, a barrage of punches.

5? or was it 7 attacks? It happened so fast.

I was scared to shit, but yet angry for some reason, heart was beating frantically.

Then the realization dawned upon me.

None of his punches landed on me- because I had swiped each and every one of them away.

I remember that he looked angrier. He yelled threats and ran away.

I was just left with disbelief. As if all the training and drills and pain actually produced something good.

Like some character in a movie just discovering his powers for the first time.




It was the day the "eye" and "heart" awakened in me, as Si puts it.


I remember the days the squad spent going to and coming back from the invitational tournaments. The fights in the ring were fun, but what we really looked forward to was the time spent hanging out around before and after the event- and it wasn't to spend time with each other.

It didn't take very much. Just stares at the unfamiliar faces. Insecure people wanting to prove their worth and strength. For us, they were just tests. Tests to make sure we were still had it in us. Maybe we thought that those conditions were the only ones suitable for us to advance ourselves.



I remember how much it hurt just to feel your own heart beating so hard and fast. Your whole body shakes out of the sheer fear and adrenaline, you think that once this time ends, you'll never do it again. But somehow, you just keep going back for more.


But, as corny as it may sound, with great power does come great responsibility.

I'll never forget that day.

The hand grabbing my arm, the feeling of the air around me speeding up as I grabbed it back and spun to deliver the blow.

Everything felt so right, the fear, the impulse, the anger, the reaction.

Until I heard her scream.

Then I snapped out of the trance, maybe it was one that lasted a few years.




Before I had realized it I had developed a deep addiction for that feeling. The anger, and how powerful that made me feel.

But no more.

I would find a way to somehow seal it. A natural response that every human feels. But I could never again feel it the way a normal person does. I realized the difference of past and present feelings at the time, the strength in it was too great.

I never thought it meant cutting off some other emotions in the process. Maybe it worked out for the better.

I had to train and develop an awareness so sensitive that I could kill off the slightest flicker of it.

Never again could I feel this anger, less I fall back into the pit of despair that I worked so hard to climb out of. I could pretend to be at times for effectiveness, but thats as far as it can go.




Sometimes I wonder what life would be like without those years in martial arts. Would I be more "normal"? Would it be better to be "normal", or be like the me now who has come to so many important realizations through erring.

Would I still be following the conventional path of life for those around my age? Still wondering what to do with my life? Why I should live it like I do?

JC, uni, get a job that sooths my ego with the amount of money I make but hate it secretly? Basing my success on the success of those around me?

I probably wouldn't have fought so hard to break out of it all. To forge my own path. But the things I've lost along the way still haunt me to this very day.




Whatever happened to do good old days, that never existed.

But will eventually come.