Don Savant
01-17-2005, 11:05 PM
Reminiscing was always so hard due to his painful past, but here lately in that thought process a subtle smirk has been hidden.
"1,2,3,1, 1,2,3,2...."
That was the cadence that he had become so accustomed to hearing over the past few weeks. He looked at himself everyday with a certain pride that he'd never had in those younger days. With every up down of the push-ups he could see his former pain. He could feel the fresh mud slide up against his cheek and the a heavy foot press to the other side. In the background he could hear the chant;
"get up fat boy get up"
With every embarrassing rememberance, his cadence got quicker and he pushed harder. With every vision of his school lunch being painted on his new clothing he pushed even harder. With every name he'd ever been called floating around in his head so fierce that it was almost like he could smell the breath of those who has said them, he increased his limits. He was no longer the underdog. He was no longer the one being bullied. For he was the one who held the cards now.
"Privates!!!!!!!"
"Yes drill Sergeant?"
" I'd like you to meet 4 of our new recruits. They were supposed to go to jail for a month for a possesions charge, but I talked the nice judge into lettin me have them for that time. You see privates, these are the same guys that used to bully me when I was younger and trying to make something of my self. They spend each of their waking days trying to convince me that I was nothing, and that I would never be nothing. Well I say look at who holds the big cards now. I don't want them to eat, drink, sleep, dance, talk, sing, blink, spit, and even take a dump without me giving the permission to do so. Can I get a Hoo Rah?"
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Just something I was messin around with..tell me what y'all think.
"1,2,3,1, 1,2,3,2...."
That was the cadence that he had become so accustomed to hearing over the past few weeks. He looked at himself everyday with a certain pride that he'd never had in those younger days. With every up down of the push-ups he could see his former pain. He could feel the fresh mud slide up against his cheek and the a heavy foot press to the other side. In the background he could hear the chant;
"get up fat boy get up"
With every embarrassing rememberance, his cadence got quicker and he pushed harder. With every vision of his school lunch being painted on his new clothing he pushed even harder. With every name he'd ever been called floating around in his head so fierce that it was almost like he could smell the breath of those who has said them, he increased his limits. He was no longer the underdog. He was no longer the one being bullied. For he was the one who held the cards now.
"Privates!!!!!!!"
"Yes drill Sergeant?"
" I'd like you to meet 4 of our new recruits. They were supposed to go to jail for a month for a possesions charge, but I talked the nice judge into lettin me have them for that time. You see privates, these are the same guys that used to bully me when I was younger and trying to make something of my self. They spend each of their waking days trying to convince me that I was nothing, and that I would never be nothing. Well I say look at who holds the big cards now. I don't want them to eat, drink, sleep, dance, talk, sing, blink, spit, and even take a dump without me giving the permission to do so. Can I get a Hoo Rah?"
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Just something I was messin around with..tell me what y'all think.