Nothing compares to the
purity and
intensity of
human combat. Our eyes locked on each other,
reflexes pumped and twitching, ready to burst. All thought and memory vanish; my only world and purpose is to
fight, to fight! It is an indescribable sensation. Only in
battle can I understand what it really means to think of nothing, to live in the moment and act on
pure instinct.
Pain is no longer pain. It is viewed through a lens of objectivity and
adrenaline, and serves only as a beacon that I have made a mistake. It is not until long after your
fist solidly connects that I acknowledge the aching rib cage, the bruised muscle. In a fight, the mind
switches gears and becomes completely
animal and yet completely
mechanical. All my eyes see are
calculations of time, distance, possibility when my gaze flits across your face, your fists, your legs, your eyes. The shout that tears from my throat as I connect is nothing of
human invention, but a
primal display of power.
And in the shadow of this intimate violence everything else pales. The cinematic light from a screen, the words of a textbook, even the warm thoughts of love become weak, meaningless, and cold. It is in the urge to defeat my opponent that life is truly lived. I revert to my basic hunter's nature, and become one with the blood, the breath, the skin.. and the fight.