Is it weird that I like pain?
The sharp sting of a hockey ball crashing into my shin. The squeezing in my chest as my lungs scream for air after a grueling run. The dull shock in my knees as I land to the ground after a jump shot.
It's something that defines me. That proves I'm still alive. Sentient and capable of taking decisions myself, how rational they are is another aspect altogether. It's entirely my choice to quit the field as is, knowing I won't be judged, except by myself. Yet, I choose to push on, running, jumping, crashing.
Because I want to. Because I still can.
The sharp sting of a hockey ball crashing into my shin. The squeezing in my chest as my lungs scream for air after a grueling run. The dull shock in my knees as I land to the ground after a jump shot.
It's something that defines me. That proves I'm still alive. Sentient and capable of taking decisions myself, how rational they are is another aspect altogether. It's entirely my choice to quit the field as is, knowing I won't be judged, except by myself. Yet, I choose to push on, running, jumping, crashing.
Because I want to. Because I still can.
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