... about a boy

4 pm.

The boy had just finished his afternoon bath. It was 4 hours away from seeing stringfellow hawke and dominic santini eradicating yet another stealth terrorist jet, or a missile-full yacht with their helicopter on the telly. So he decided to stroll down the complex, riding his bike to kill some time

Being a daydreamer, he was not fully aware of his surroundings, and kept on pedaling his bike, thinking how macgyver could always had a way to look cool. He had asked his dad to give him a swiss army knife on his coming birthday – when he became 10. In addition to that, the boy had even made a promise to himself – to get himself the exact same jeep macgyver was using by the time he grown. Everything was a blur to him then. Then he was bluntly stopped. His bike hit something. Or someone. The local village kids were playing soccer in a field behind his house. And he hit one of them with his bike. His maid’s bike. Stiff as he was, he didn’t ask for an apology – outloud. He only whispered it. So he continued his journey, and back to pedaling his bike, trying to catch up to the point he left his daydreaming at. The next thing he knew, he was already floored. The kid whom the boy hit kicked him in the back. Bruce lee-like. He got up, and smacked the kid right in the nose. The other soccer players obviously couldn’t stand the sight. That one of them was being beaten by an outsider. So they all jumped to him, punching and kicking him from all directions. The boy went berserk, and managed to find his bike within the count of tens of seconds. Under the punches and kicks, he got on the bike and deliberately tried to run over everyone who stood on his way.

At home, the first thing he did was weightlifting – using his couch in his room. He was a skinny little boy, and all he wanted to do was becoming a strong man so that he could kick the other kid’s butts.

5 pm

The boy waited impatiently for his father to come home with his mother. He didn’t even bother to change his clothes first. When they saw him, the mother shrieked and asked him what happened. Ignoring the mother, the boy asked his father to send him to Shaolin Temple, in China. (The boy then consumed too much of Thio Bu Ki,

Li Bo Yi, the dragon saber, and other kungfu videos on rental cassettes). Smiling, not making fuss of his son messy appearance, his father only asked what have driven him to such request. The boy responded that he wanted to become stronger. He trained pencak silat under the watchful eyes of his “Guru Ngaji” a few days later.

17 years after, by the age of 27, when the future had become present, how he wishes he has half the determination himself had as a kid. The focus and willingness to change the things he could, the serenity to accept the things he could not, and the wisdom to know the difference.

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I feel like no-one ever told the truth to me
About growing up and what a struggle it would be
In my tangled state of mind
I've been looking back to find
Where I went wrong

:: too much love will kill you – brian may ::