Sometimes I see myself in a cage fight. I’m standing inside the octagon; and the greyish-silver chain links surrounding me seem to be taking my breath away. How in the hell did I get here? I don’t even know how to fight. I mean.. I’ve been in several fights; I’ve dealt a fair share of lessons but I’ve also been schooled by people with much more experience than I have. I didn’t know it at the time but I wasn’t ready for this. This was forced on me. Why?? I’ve already been humbled. Also, I feel like I’ve seen this setup somewhere before?? The specific shape and layout of the 8 sided fighting ring, along with the eerie caging feeling the fence surrounding us commanded. My heart was pounding outside of my chest, this has to be UFC, what in the actual fuck!?
I can feel my heartbeat in my head and it’s nerve-wracking, the panic must be observable on my face and body. I’m wondering if anyone else can really see it. Wondering if they can feel the Death Metronome just as I do. Tick, tick, tick. They’d probably be dancing to the beat if they could. Just tapdancing happily as my soul leaves my body. Are they? I’m not supposed to be here. I need to get out of here immediately. But the only intel I can seem to muster from context tells me this event is inevitable, destined perhaps. Wow. Obviously, there’s only one way out and it needs to be through this fight: win or lose. Fuck it, run that fade bitch.
It’s loud all around. But there’s something strange about it. There’s no crowd. It’s very empty in here, aside from the disembodied voices of the announcers, who would surely clown me while I was meeting my own demise; along with myself and my opponent. What’s loud? Where’s the ref?? What are the rules? How do I win? How do I safely end the game? Is this a game? Is this a dream? Why the fuck am I here, y’all got the wrong person!?!!!!
My opponent seemed much different than I had expected, strangely familiar even. Seemingly less ready to kill me than I’d expected. We have the same warm up motions. Same bounce. Same step. What the hell? I should have trained for this fight. Have I fought them before? Surely not because I don’t freaking fight.
Again, why am I here? I’m so dizzy from my nerves and the adrenaline that I can only focus on the gloved individual on the other side who apparently wants to kill me. “Defense bro, defense. Just keep it together.” This is not your enemy. It’s just a person on the other end who needs this win just as much as I do. What is a win? What does that mean to them? What does that mean to me? Why do they want to kill me? Why do I need to protect myself so much that I feel I need to kill them first?? Why am I here? Literally, why the fuck am I here(?!?!), this ain’t me! Holy shit I’m so nervous that I’m sick to my stomach. I need to let a little out and soon. It came sooner than I wished, and there was relief in my corner. But then:
The first bell dings to start it all. I’m forced to leave the safety of the ghosts in my corner, and now I’m at the mercy of the Bell. I find myself in the ring, walking toward the enemy whose wearing the same ambiguous offense & defense stance as I, just to find myself fist to fist, with…. me.
