Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Fight Club

I started reading Fight Club again, and I must say that if ever there was a monument to the man I used to be, this subject would be it. When I saw the movie, every single frame seemed to speak to me directly. And once I read the book, every single witticism seemed so clever and well thought out. Both mediums present a bit a different message and I pored over how this changed during the movie making process as though the answer would be so convoluted and deep that it would truly change my life.

And for a very long time, I had a series of dreams in which I had created my own fight club, or had been part of a fight club, having attended a fight club for the first time, or faced some very hard truths about myself standing in the crowd at a fight club. The two that really stand out for me to this day is one where I completely lost it and utterly destroyed another human being, but in the process I had become so overcome with emotion I had utterly destroyed myself as well. The other was kind of a two parter. In one, I was in the crowd wearing a shirt and Tyler called me out on the floor. He took my shirt off me and there I was, tattooed solid and still very skinny. Tyler then uses me as an example to the group - having been unable to put on any mass I chose to cover my body in tattoos in order to be comfortable within myself. At some point, I found myself even more self-conscious of my body than before and then kept it covered up all the time. Tyler was right and there I was bared to all and mostly to myself. I did not have to fight that night as I had been destroyed in a different way. The other part was kind of the opposite as I was finally able to build muscle but still find myself extremely self-conscious of my body.

These dreams have never really stopped but they are a lot less frequent. I believe that it is due in part to my endless need to feed my adrenaline addiction and in part for me to deal with my never ending frustration with my own endlessly stalled life.

Back on the subject, upon reading the book now, I just see characters who are trying so very hard to be different, unhappy, and unfulfilled, that they see themselves as modern philosophers. I just see the hipsters and the punkers of the scene I used to be a part of years back. These are the people who never change with the times. They do not seem to see the light, as it were, or have a true catharsis.

But ultimately, I know I have mellowed to a certain degree. While muscular, stronger, and much more dangerous in a fight I finally reached a point where I mentally just do not care enough to get angry. I am an intelligent man and do not have to use my fists to settle differences.

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