There is a malformed eidolon, a shadow tinged meme, a pulpy grease stain of bravado whispering with wet lips against my ear lobe "work through it, just pull back a little." It never works. Never. I "pull back" for a few days, convinced I've done my time. My return to full throttle never works, only fucks things up: ears, toes, skin, skin, and oh god more skin left on a mat or scarred over, a new window into my obsession, an impressionist viewfinder into the emerald green trauma of the bathtub, the semen, the guns.
Ears. Toes. Skin. Guns.
Add my knees to my list of mistakes. I've got tendonitis in both knees, (technically it's the quads), the tear drops of my quads have tears of their own because the pain is speaking in a plain language we can all easily understand: the catch as catch can game of neural energy.
Sitting in this chair? Even that aggrivates it. I reduced lower body exercise to swimming, as there is no pressure on the joints (but aren't I still using the muscles??).
I have a problem. I'm afraid to stop training. I can make myself stop training, but it requires tremendous mental effort and a Mac truck full of misery. I need to establish a new rule. A way to determine when to stop training before I let it go to far, I can't keep doing this to myself. Whatever guilt or shame I may feel about the rape, *I do not train to punish myself, and I can't allow it to turn into that. I'm gonna...I'm gonna have to trust someone to help me. Girlfriend doesn't live here, so I guess that means a Sifu. Wonderful. I'm gonna love having this conversation--no, wait there is someone else.
I've decided I need supervision. I need someone to look at me and say stop training. You have to take time off. I don't think I can make the decision for myself anymore. Martial Art training has become part of my identity, I'm at a point right now where I don't know if I can function without it--and yes, I realize that may not be a good thing. It is something I may work through, but I feel scared and helpless without it, that's irrational, but so is rape and assault, and that blow job your mom gave me**.
*Also, training gives me the luxury of a kicked up metabolism, and allows me to pig out on the weekend, without training, I'm afraid of getting fat.
**I'm sorry, your mother is a wonderful person, I would never speak ill of her. She's very giving in the bedroom;)
Monday, August 25, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Yoga and the violent imagination
Downward facing dog. Downward. Facing. Dog. The pose is supposed to be fluid, but my body never quite gets it. Each time a new adjustment, a different tweak in the pain-without-pain-just relax-just-breath sphere of iconic poses. There are five ways to do downward facing dog correctly, give or take a million; and five ways to do it incorrectly, give or take a million. Downward. Facing. Dog.
"Push your hips back, straighten your legs. The elbows should be tucked underneath the arms. Extend the fingers wide," Down--ward, "the index fingers should be pointed to the front of the room," face--ing, "your hands are rays of sunlight reaching, reaching outward beyond the self,"
rays of sunlight. I like it. I imagine an assault, I blind the bad guy with rays of sunlight. This makes me smile, and smiling kills the pose.
"Push your hips back, straighten your legs. The elbows should be tucked underneath the arms. Extend the fingers wide," Down--ward, "the index fingers should be pointed to the front of the room," face--ing, "your hands are rays of sunlight reaching, reaching outward beyond the self,"
rays of sunlight. I like it. I imagine an assault, I blind the bad guy with rays of sunlight. This makes me smile, and smiling kills the pose.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Trying not to start WW III
I am taking deep breaths, big fat yoga breaths. I am the king of yoga. I am the oxygen man; my blood cells are just bursting with the stuff; my veins are coursing with love and peace and pituli (sp?) and hugs, Fozzy the bear wocka wocka wocka hugs; they are not frantic with a million savage fire ants; my brain is not a Heavy Metal spectacular.
I am not going to misuse my martial training.
Only one "person" is capable of setting me off in a berserker rage, the girl who put the kicker in babykicker, my sister.
Her boyfriend, will call here--looking for her---incessantly. Once he gets started, he can't seem to stop. I kid you know he will call here 10 times in the course of two hours. This might be cute if he was a fifteen year old stricken with puppy love (the slobbering stupid love that gives you fleas), and if he didn't drive around our col-de-sac (sigh, sp?) when she didn't answer, AND IF the babykicker got her lazy ass up just long enough to answer the fucking phone.
If I see his name on the caller ID I don't answer it; I want as little to do with him as I do her.
Most of the time I don't say anything about it, but today it was just too much. There had been more phone calls than usual, a few of them even, were sane people. I didn't check the caller ID, as he had called the last three times. "Babykicker, answer the phone, bitch, it's your boyfriend"
Now I admit, I cursed, which is a no-no in the rhetoric of argument in this house, as it allows the other person to claim the pseudo-moral high ground. It was off the cuff, both babykicker and myself are prone to tarantino-esque tirades.
She answers. She talks. She clicks. She shouts "That wasn't my boyfriend, it was mom, blah blah angry blah don't call me bitch angry blah-blah" I shouted back he was 90% of the calls in the morning, she said something about males thinking they are entitled, and I tried to let it die at that. I bit my tongue, astounded by her hypocrisy. (Project much? No one behaves as if they are entitled more than you), but it just wasn't worth it.
I thought the issue was dead, when mom came home from work though, Babykicker complains, assuming a posture of false outrage. How dare I call her a bitch blah blah blah angry blah. You couldn't wash her mouth out with two magic erasers, a swiffer, a pound of soap, and a olympic pool of shock treated chlorinated water. I told mom "the real reason she's pissed is I dared to wake her for a phone call, when it turned out to be you instead of the psycho boyfriend she was mad" Babykicker started to say something but I just added, calmly to mom, "sometimes, he will drive by the house when she doesn't answer, it's fucking creepy" I removed myself from the conversation , deciding to take Captain Charisma (one of Radar's many nicknames) outside. She went to tell my mother about how she could speak ghetto, using as much motherfucking profantity as motherfucking possible to motherfuck the point.
It was wet, and Radar surveyed the pool for turtles. She was trying to start a fight with me, looking for a way to push my buttons. I thought about why doing anything would be wrong; if I hold out long enough, maybe her nutjob boyfriend will do it for me...as long as he doesn't come here to do it.
I am not going to misuse my martial training.
Only one "person" is capable of setting me off in a berserker rage, the girl who put the kicker in babykicker, my sister.
Her boyfriend, will call here--looking for her---incessantly. Once he gets started, he can't seem to stop. I kid you know he will call here 10 times in the course of two hours. This might be cute if he was a fifteen year old stricken with puppy love (the slobbering stupid love that gives you fleas), and if he didn't drive around our col-de-sac (sigh, sp?) when she didn't answer, AND IF the babykicker got her lazy ass up just long enough to answer the fucking phone.
If I see his name on the caller ID I don't answer it; I want as little to do with him as I do her.
Most of the time I don't say anything about it, but today it was just too much. There had been more phone calls than usual, a few of them even, were sane people. I didn't check the caller ID, as he had called the last three times. "Babykicker, answer the phone, bitch, it's your boyfriend"
Now I admit, I cursed, which is a no-no in the rhetoric of argument in this house, as it allows the other person to claim the pseudo-moral high ground. It was off the cuff, both babykicker and myself are prone to tarantino-esque tirades.
She answers. She talks. She clicks. She shouts "That wasn't my boyfriend, it was mom, blah blah angry blah don't call me bitch angry blah-blah" I shouted back he was 90% of the calls in the morning, she said something about males thinking they are entitled, and I tried to let it die at that. I bit my tongue, astounded by her hypocrisy. (Project much? No one behaves as if they are entitled more than you), but it just wasn't worth it.
I thought the issue was dead, when mom came home from work though, Babykicker complains, assuming a posture of false outrage. How dare I call her a bitch blah blah blah angry blah. You couldn't wash her mouth out with two magic erasers, a swiffer, a pound of soap, and a olympic pool of shock treated chlorinated water. I told mom "the real reason she's pissed is I dared to wake her for a phone call, when it turned out to be you instead of the psycho boyfriend she was mad" Babykicker started to say something but I just added, calmly to mom, "sometimes, he will drive by the house when she doesn't answer, it's fucking creepy" I removed myself from the conversation , deciding to take Captain Charisma (one of Radar's many nicknames) outside. She went to tell my mother about how she could speak ghetto, using as much motherfucking profantity as motherfucking possible to motherfuck the point.
It was wet, and Radar surveyed the pool for turtles. She was trying to start a fight with me, looking for a way to push my buttons. I thought about why doing anything would be wrong; if I hold out long enough, maybe her nutjob boyfriend will do it for me...as long as he doesn't come here to do it.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Tentacle PS
This is a summary of rolling with The Tentacle: triangle-triangle-armbar-triangle-triangle-armbar.
I’m coping one day at a time.
I’m coping one day at a time.
Tentacle PS
This is a summary of rolling with The Tentacle: triangle-triangle-armbar-triangle-triangle-armbar.
I’m coping one day at a time.
I’m coping one day at a time.
Day of The Tentacle
He trained two days a week for about 8 months. He’s a blue belt. He been kicking my ass since he moseyed on in the dojo. He’s reason numero uno, I started writing about little victories on my blog.
Getting crushed by super heavy weights I can handle. Outmaneuvered by college boy and his wrestling toolbox, is frustrating but I could cope with it intellectually, but the Tentacle? I couldn’t handle it. He’s a prodigy, forged from hot southern days of laying stucko. His grip is aquatic, you might as well be staring at a giant squid—and his guard?—inner thighs like iron…and then he’s stretchy again.
He’s a lanky guy, but his lank is low key, southern like his drawl, stretching his vowels through his lips. Hell, even his workman’s tan seems stretched out thinly over his skin. It has a mustard bbq quality you could only find in the bible belt. They just don’t make tans like this in
Most of the time when you think lanky, you think tall, b-baller height, since I started bjj I’ve been paying closer attention to bone structure—not merely physique I’ve always done that—analyzing bodies for functionality in the fighting arts, a habit inspired by The Tentacle.
Victory is mine
Last night I earned my green belt in Judo. It's the first belt above white. I'm very happy with the results. Although, I had this weird head ache at the end. I passed the test by doing the following:
1. Demonstrating basic competency of breakfalls and forward rolls.
2. Demonstrated competency in four throwing techniques:
a. O-soto-gari>>>>> major outer reaping throw (a sweep)
b.O-goshi>>>>>>>>major hip throw
c. Koshi Goruma>>>>hip wheel
d. Sote Tsiri Komi Goshi>>>> sleeve driven hip throw
Believe it or not the spelling should be correct for all 'dose things (I'm reading from a sheet).
I also had to demonstrate a basic competency in two pinning combinations and escape from those pins.
a. Kesa-gatame>>cross chest hold
b. Kata-gatame>>shoulder hold
For the throws I had to breakdown the technique then perform a line take-down (keep throwing people with the same throw). One of my ukis (sp?) is easily 300 lbs. He worker for WCW as a jobber. I was surprised I was able to throw him at all (even if he was offering minimal resistance)
This makes me a Gokyu in the Judo world. What comes next? As far as the throws are concerned I want to further develop my technique, perform them left sided, and learn what ever variations I can absorb. But what about new techniques? I know I want to develop a sacrifice throw, an inside reap (basically a Judo style strip), a throw whose name I don't remember but requires me to balance on one leg, and another hip throw or trip--haven't decided yet.
As far as the pins are concerned, they work within a jujitsu environment, and I'll have to continue to work on them. When I can lock down a blue belt, I'll know I've made genuine progress on Kesa-gatame (most pins are really a variation of this).
I want to keep these techniques with MMA in mind as well as grappling, so any changes I make will largely be driven by those factors. As far as self defense is concerned, competency with a large variety of throws (to fit the context) strikes me as best so this won't be a major determinate for now.
PS
Sote Tsiri Komi Goshi is not a beginners technique. I chose it for the test because I demonstrated apptitude for it, and I believe I can use it in an Attack By Draw strategy for jittery BJJers in a takedown phase.
1. Demonstrating basic competency of breakfalls and forward rolls.
2. Demonstrated competency in four throwing techniques:
a. O-soto-gari>>>>> major outer reaping throw (a sweep)
b.O-goshi>>>>>>>>major hip throw
c. Koshi Goruma>>>>hip wheel
d. Sote Tsiri Komi Goshi>>>> sleeve driven hip throw
Believe it or not the spelling should be correct for all 'dose things (I'm reading from a sheet).
I also had to demonstrate a basic competency in two pinning combinations and escape from those pins.
a. Kesa-gatame>>cross chest hold
b. Kata-gatame>>shoulder hold
For the throws I had to breakdown the technique then perform a line take-down (keep throwing people with the same throw). One of my ukis (sp?) is easily 300 lbs. He worker for WCW as a jobber. I was surprised I was able to throw him at all (even if he was offering minimal resistance)
This makes me a Gokyu in the Judo world. What comes next? As far as the throws are concerned I want to further develop my technique, perform them left sided, and learn what ever variations I can absorb. But what about new techniques? I know I want to develop a sacrifice throw, an inside reap (basically a Judo style strip), a throw whose name I don't remember but requires me to balance on one leg, and another hip throw or trip--haven't decided yet.
As far as the pins are concerned, they work within a jujitsu environment, and I'll have to continue to work on them. When I can lock down a blue belt, I'll know I've made genuine progress on Kesa-gatame (most pins are really a variation of this).
I want to keep these techniques with MMA in mind as well as grappling, so any changes I make will largely be driven by those factors. As far as self defense is concerned, competency with a large variety of throws (to fit the context) strikes me as best so this won't be a major determinate for now.
PS
Sote Tsiri Komi Goshi is not a beginners technique. I chose it for the test because I demonstrated apptitude for it, and I believe I can use it in an Attack By Draw strategy for jittery BJJers in a takedown phase.
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