So, on or about the nite of 26 March, I fell pretty badly - metaphorically - and went through a total crisis - think Hitler, January 1945 - and then recovered. Lent went, more of that nature went on, battles fought - all lost, though i never lost the war - and through it all, I think I kinda reemerged agaion.
Still, just off Spring break - a full week off - and I'm exhausted. maybe it was because of the number and viciousness of the numerous battles I fought this past fortnite. Really - what happpened? I thought I was beyond it all - but then the klank of the tank trackx of the enemy armour, and all again, though i never thought again, there was I again, fighting off Tigers and Panthers and Mark IV's - with my M-1 and my M-1 only.
Again, it was a ruff fortnite. Immediately (again to reuse the internal rhyme) went Lent - that nite it was off, only 9 days short of full success (last year it ended on Holy Thursday- this year, a week before Holy Thursday). I'm sure the next nite went ..... well, whatever went next. But it went, a week after the above day. That'd be a week before Good Friday. And it continued dureing that week. I think it was five full battles- not the epic "Battle of Nations" scale say of spring 2001, but battle in the full - that I had to struggle through - but again, here I am.
Still, just off Spring break - a full week off - and I'm exhausted. maybe it was because of the number and viciousness of the numerous battles I fought this past fortnite. Really - what happpened? I thought I was beyond it all - but then the klank of the tank trackx of the enemy armour, and all again, though i never thought again, there was I again, fighting off Tigers and Panthers and Mark IV's - with my M-1 and my M-1 only.
Again, it was a ruff fortnite. Immediately (again to reuse the internal rhyme) went Lent - that nite it was off, only 9 days short of full success (last year it ended on Holy Thursday- this year, a week before Holy Thursday). I'm sure the next nite went ..... well, whatever went next. But it went, a week after the above day. That'd be a week before Good Friday. And it continued dureing that week. I think it was five full battles- not the epic "Battle of Nations" scale say of spring 2001, but battle in the full - that I had to struggle through - but again, here I am.
And the responsibility. Let it all go. Not Mom, Gf, the kids, frenz, soccer team - fuck it all. Could care less, as long as I could secretly live.
But the funny thing is, the responsibility molded it all. I had these responsibilities to all these people. So, I recovered. It was my failure as a soccer coach - temporary, or work in progress, as I am yet Willy Roy or Sir Alex - that set it off, and it was my responsibility as a coach that brought my back. Again, to quote Drax from Belgium - its a progression. And I have to remember that.
But, sometimes to progress, one has to make the leap. No other way but this. So, yes, I'm - metaphorically - killing myself to die upon a kiss - wait, stop qouting shakespeare when it has nothing to do w/ what yr writing - leaping in one arena of my life (soccer arena, don't get that excited) and hoping .... well, the rest tambien por ahorra.
Most I won't explain - except the soccer. That's coming.
2 comments:
"Don't stop believin'" to quote your favorite sports anthem.
did you give up jenkin fur lenten?
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