“I still get very high and very low in life. Daily. But I’ve finally accepted the fact that sensitive is just how I was made, that I don’t have to hide it and I don’t have to fix it. I’m not broken.”
“Sometimes I feel like a king, sometimes I moan in my own prison. Swaying between these states I can’t be proud of myself. This ‘I’ is a figment of my imagination.”
Being a Fan Isn’t Always Fun
I’ve always known that I’m not really a fan of the Cubs/Bulls/Bears, because I don’t watch them when they stink(so I don’t watch many Cubs games at all). I am a Manchester United fan, but, wow, is this awful. Spending 90 minutes listening to commentators struggle to put their finger on why, exactly, we’re shit. Watching clubs that haven’t won at Old Trafford in 41 years replace midfielders with attackers when they are already in the lead. Observing the exodus of fans pouring out of the stadium with 10 minutes remaining. Being subjected to the close-up shots of despondent children, looking absolutely crestfallen as they watch their team flounder. There’s almost nothing enjoyable about watching this team.
People always say that soccer is boring and nothing happens. I never knew what they were talking about, but I get it this year. What used to be one of my favorite parts of the week is now 90 minutes of anxiety, frustration and a mild despair. It’s a ridiculous exercise, investing a part of your emotional well-being in a group of strangers kicking a ball around, but there’s no getting out of this now. I’m stuck with this lot for better or worse. That’s how I know I’m a fan and, boy, can that be an awful thing.
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
— "Invictus" by William Ernest Henley, Nelson Mandela’s favorite poem and a source of great strength for him.
“There is not one part of your body or your consciousness that you are not able to take control of. Shape it anyway you like. Create a masterpiece.”
“You realize that what you were looking for is what you are looking from.”