9 stitches and some bliss

This is another story from my past. Well, a very recent past but it has a great moral. I guess I’ve always been a stressful person – the more minute the detail the more it bugs me. Maybe it’s some sort of mental issue or something; in my country the whole issue of mental health is well explored. Here you are either insane or conformist. Guess where I stand.

Sure, this country is built on hobbies and people trying to escape reality (but never leaving it, because we’re a nation of pussies – there I said it. Grow a pair Malta), but very rarely do I meet people who are truly relaxed and at ease with their own heads. I guess this is why I increased my internal martial arts training, in dire hopes of finding 5 minutes where no one bitches about a government they understand nothing about, a job they hate but are too afraid to leave and of a better life they will never pursue.

Dealing with stress is crucial to people like me, who are taking major risks with their lifestyle and career choices. We gotta vent that shit out, otherwise we blow up. I read a post by Shannon A Thompson about hobbies ans talents and I’ve been meaning to write about that topic myself.

My particular ventilation system in sports of martial arts variety. Essentially I watch alot of anime fights on youtube and then try them out myself with other nerds in Japanese uniforms. I take several classes but wrestling was something I never paid for, simply because my dad is the founder of the sport in my country. So I was pushed in that direction despite never competing due to my hatred of competition.

This story (Yeah I have a story despite the long-ass intro) takes place when my club which teaches both wrestling and jujitsu took part in a youth exchange program. We had two teams come over and because I really don’t give a fuck here’s the country of origin – Germany and Ireland.

Here are my complaints: The Irish team was nice. and by nice I mean friendly. And by friendly I mean drunk. And by drunk I mean EVERY MOMENT OF THE COCKING DAY!

It seems to my that they neglect teaching time reading skills in Ireland, simply because they guys were always late. I mean, sure, you and I usually run a few minute, maybe a half hour late, we apologize and it’s no big deal. These guys were hours late. There where times where they were still wondering about and we had to leave them aground, with instructions on how to reach us via public transport.

To be fair, they were drunk. And not regular ‘whooo hooo look who’s on the table!!!’ drunk.

Charlie-Sheen-meets-Nicholas-Cage drunk.

But there were the guys I hung out with simply because we sang on buses and talked a lot of culture.

this should give you an idea of what level of Neanderthal-ism the German team was at.

I know the world has a particular view of German because of the whole Nazi business, but I also know that not every German is like that and that type of judgement is wrong. So I didn’t judge – at least not on where they were from. Malta has spent the past 1000 years being anally raped by every country with a wet dream of expansion, from the Punics all the way to Alexander the Great, the Roman empire, Napoleon’s little stint and the British cockblocking tide. So I don’t judge where people are from (and that include Americans – sorry couldn’t resist).

What I do judge is behavior and having two Mexican stand-offs, one of which nearly resulted in a fight, with a whole lot of these people was not scoring them any points. I was one of the leaders and it was one of the most unpleasant things I had to deal with in my life. I was so disgusted I quit taking on youth exchanges and practicing wrestling all together (Two things I was already fed up with) and now I only organize stuff with local clubs and people I know and trust.

But back to the story – at one point I was so stressed that I ended up in a minor car crash. I was alone and the speed was so slow that the car in front of me only had like 2 inches of scratching. My car, had a couple of broken lights – maybe a hundred bucks of damage total. No big deal.

The most damaged thing was my knee. the cheap plastic of the dashboard shattered and sliced into my knee. I could still walk and push the car, but it looked like a b-horror movie and after we were done, I was taken to the clinic for stitches.

And here’s where the morals begin. I had reached tipping point in my stress, where it couldn’t go any higher. instead, I ended up telling jokes to the lovely nurse who tended me and a doctor who seemed delighted that I was calm and asked all the right questions. (Here’s a tip for patients – ask smart questions. Doctors like to show off, so if you show them that you are knowledgeable but still need their professional guidance, they’ll be very eager to work with you.) Of course, at the back was an ambulance driver who constantly told jokes too. at one point we ended up riffing off of each other and the whole floor was laughing. My only concern was that I was making the doctor laugh too much – the guy with the curved needle in my knee, sewing me up.

I guess being in a hospital getting stitched up was more fun for me than being a supervisor to a bunch of ungrateful motherfuckers (not my guys bdw) who, even after I kicked their asses in stitches, still wouldn’t show the slightest respect. Some people just deserve to be run over by a bus. There. I said it.

So here’s an idea – if you’re a raving psychopath with a few rounds and issues to unload, do some research first. Don’t shoot innocents, just find the assholes and go to town. We’ll call it community service.

But the best part was the next day; spending the following morning and afternoon alone in my hotel room with nothing but anime to watch on a wi-fi I managed to get for free – it was utter bliss.

Ever since that day I understood that I really need to stop pushing myself – sometimes a tactical retreat is best, gather your thoughts and listen to what those voices inside you are saying. I found bliss after getting injured and could have potentially died. That tends to put things in perspective, especially when tell people who are stressing you out with their selfishness to fuck straight off.

So the moral would be that more often than not we are pushed to limits beyond our capability. We live such a stressful life that we are mutating our lives and not in a good way. Improvement is only successful if it lies in balance, and it seems to me that we often forgo our own well-being for the sake of limits which aren’t there in the first place.

I’ll leave you with this little nugget of thought. My manager and AEC Stellar’s CEO, Ray Vogel, shared something on facebook which said that never in the history of mankind have scientist proven the concept of time, at least not in the way we believe it to be. Therefore, the urgency that we created is nothing but a fallacy. Structure is one thing, but I suppose everyone reading this would agree that time is something we stress over way too much.

So the next time someone tells you that you’re too early or too late, you can tell them to fuck straight off.

You are exactly where the universe needs you to be and they can suck it.

Peace,

Ryan

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2 comments on “9 stitches and some bliss
  1. Sorin Suciu says:

    Great moral, Ryan!
    One thing, though – having interacted with Germans for several years in my line of work, I have discovered them to be amazing people. Modest, caring, fair and with an amazing sense of humor. I’m pretty sure you had the misfortune of meeting an utterly misrepresentative group.

    • enkousama says:

      Yes I agree. I’m not judging on the country of origin. I’m just judging them as people based on their less-than-decent actions.
      But true I know a couple of German musicians who are just awesome

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