Then after a period where there was relative peace in the house, before a move to gweru and my father sinking into catatonia, he started beating up on my mother, and I started to learn how to fight. Primarily because I wanted him to stand up to ME and see how he would act against someone that could fight back, even though then I was still less than half his size and maybe not even in the double digits in years.
As I grew up, though, even if I never fought my father, I started relishing the chance of getting into scrapes, and while i kept to myself and did not go looking for trouble, I quickly earned a reputation as a very violent person. Used to get up at nights, and use my knees and elbows and fists on a giant avocado tree in the back yard, and i let my till then idle mind work on, and I tried in real life, situations that would enable me to be effective against any kind of opponent, be he skilled in 'martial' arts or not. What I learned about knife fights, how to disarm a person with one, or beat him even with it, no one taught me. I tried to think like the other person, and discovered that there is a simple way, method to everything, and then i surprised myself by finding out that once i had put a sequence into my mind, I had no hesitation about carrying it through. I became, in short, a fighter, and a very good one at that, taking on any and all comers, with or without black belts. I never ran from a battle, because I could not live with myself afterwards, and I never lost the use of any of my limbs or any teeth, which must mean,( for a guy whose hands became deformed until now I am ashamed of looking at them, at the very pronounced knuckles, or at the depressed/recessed knuckle of my little finger on my left hand,) I was very, very good.
So, I started using my fists before i thought, and I would not back down from any plan of action, not even when it seemed foolish, because i knew one thing that till then I had assumed was common knowledge, but which turned out to be a sort of open secret; everybody was afraid of physical contact. Take the best fighters or even the loud mouths, and see the way their body language telegraphs their uncertainty before a fight. They do not know what they are getting into, they are afraid of being hurt, they are afraid... to die. I was never that, maybe because i was dead already, but also because I had nothing to lose. So, I just... fought, with ferocity, and recklessness, and absolutely no regard for my safety, because i knew that if i pressed the attack, the other guy would be so busy defending himself he would have no chance to really be a pest.
Then I came to south africa, and away from the causes of my rage, I still carried on with my impetuous actions, and slowly, very slowly, began to discover that I did not have to be so... violent. Though there were humourous moments when I look back at things as i can even boast that i am probably the only person to make a gang-leader quake in his boots when i told him to butt out of my business and know his limits.
The realisation that I did not have to be so much a violent person, that there was a way to deal with issues without making everyone shake in their boots because you still them for a few minutes by knocking one of them out (which is not a solution because they will always come again, once they regroup, or they add a few to their number) and yet do not deal PERMANENTLY with the problem, well, it had strange effects on me, because the next fight I entered into, must be late 2009, I suddenly became weak, and could not even left a finger to defend myself. I had to rely on superior body mass to knock one of them down, and then, like suarez, I bit him. While the other one, the one who tried to stab me, got a shock because his knife BOUNCED from my neck without so much as leaving a scratch, and then the next hit was a shallow gouge on my right arm. They got the phone, the bastards, and I was left wondering what the fuck was going on.
The weakness persisted, every encounter I went into, almost as if what I THOUGHT was being made manifest into reality, which thing I, a rather practical minded person, am having trouble either dismissing or accepting because, for example, i am rather upset, and the weather is gloomy, but i could bet you it will not rain more than a few drops, though it thunder like thor, until I am ready to attack every last one of you-having resolved my ..."problem"- and you end up dead.
What I think, it appears, becomes what IS. Over-riding even nature.
So, I am a person that is rather dangerous, without having to be physical about it.
I do not subscribe to much of the macho-man bullshit that lee child's character jack reacher believes in, but i do agree with him in one thing, that the best fight is the one you do not have, which may account for my changed behaviour in the past months. The FIST never solved anything, it was like drinking and hoping to drown your sorrows; you just put them on hold till the next day.
NO, I was looking for a more permanent solution to things. That is why I have become rather detached, dictatorial, and basically, have started laying the ground rules for the future even now, from an armchair, if you will, and hey, you may not like it, but that is the way things will be. Now, you notice that I did not mention God in this, but just focused on me. That should tell you that I am taking full responsibility for what is about to happen. Which is the way things should ... be, because practically God does NOT run things. I once wondered why He let everything and everyone walk all over me, but then, grasped what He said,
Let Us make man OUT of Our own image and IN Our own likeness, and LET them have dominion over... all the earth.
meaning that this dominion thing, of a person that uses not only the past, the present but a possible future, the one IN His likeness in THAT, that person can and MUST work His way up to the top to obtain the dominion. It is not handed on a platter. So, people, behold THE KING:- ME
