Feel…
I see you driving your opponents to the floor, emasculating them for your amusement. No…is that what it is?
You call to those who stand, whether in hatred against you or just in your way, to feel your pain. Why? I thought about it, and then came to two conclusions. One is the one most think about, but not think about.
When the pain struck, you hurt. It immobilized you, destroyed you, eats you now, with no solution to end it all. It must have hurt, because it froze you up, became a liability. Gradually, it became a weakness, and if I know anything about you, I know that you deplore weakness, whether others strike you through it or not.
So you did all that you could to not make yourself feel weak, but no matter what, at the end of the day, you were still weak, still there. You cry injustice; it is beyond your power…but wait, it must be the world's fault. With everything out of your reach, you realize that the world has faulted you, not yourself. Why should you change, when it struck you first?
You embraced the cesspool outcasts and began striking back, realizing that your first hit, your first offense…made you feel good. The helplessness, weakness and anger, emptied out of you with the first punch. You felt normal, almost content. But the feeling came back, didn't it? Nothing you did, even violence was ever enough. But from that moment on, you dedicated your life chasing that feeling, chasing that addiction to emptiness.
Every time you hurt a person, you are merely paying back the dark gift the world gave to you. "No more, no more" you cry. The emptiness is satisfaction that you have, you can control when initially you could not. There is no weakness when you fight. For a time, you are strong.
But methinks that you are deeper than that. Showing it or not, there is more. There is one other reason.
You seek brotherhood.
No doubt, the pain within you is real and no doubt it molds you. But it also constrains you, doesn't it? Pain does not communicate normally.
By turning your emotional pain into physical punishment on an opponent, you are actually extending a desperate hand of need. Maybe…you pound your fist into their face to show them how extensive the pain inside you is, the painful experience you have faced that you never should have had.
Feel my pain…
You create a common bond, an intimacy between the two of you. Maybe…with enough pain, they will understand. Your spilled blood splashing on their face makes you of the same sight. They understand.
They may become your brothers, your sisters, affected by your life trauma. Suddenly, they understand. Any hatred of you, who you are or what you have done to them vanishes. They will forget all trespasses of you. Now covered with the aching skin of the cesspool slime of your anger and sorrow, they will feel for you. They may even pity you [we have things against pity, some sort of ego bruising, but is it so bad to an ego already bruised?]. They will accept your shaking hand, grasp it firmly, and become an equal. You are no longer alone. The same blood runs though your veins, the same troubles, passions. Closeness, with a shoulder to cry on. The inner pain is now less when shared, in that intimate way. You have it now; less war with the world, more…joy.
From the bottom of my heart, I feel that this latter reasoning is the real reason. I know…
You slighted me.
You are now at a point where you just don't care for anything. You move wildly, your rage an untapped flood in all directions. You come close to murder in your battles. Some say that it will one day happen. But I know that eventually you will calm down and feel again, and it will hurt as it always does. But I will be here, waiting, ready to listen and care.
You assimilated me. Once I understood your reasoning, I embraced your pain fully. I understand. No judgment is passed.
We are of the same skin now, and I will wait to comfort you. I forgive you. Forever now…
I am your brother.
I will post up the identity of the speaker in one week. Guess for now. REVIEW!!!! REVIEW!!!! REVIEW!!!! please…