In my life, I've suffered 3 robbery attempts, and been stabbed twice. Two times before I turned 17, while I was still living in Russia :-\
I was vehemently opposed to my father's attempts to make me carry a weapon since I was 14. I changed my mind after being stabbed for a second time, much more badly (and that happened the same year.)
First time, I was attacked by a gang of homeless orphaned children. It was like that: I just noticed them giving off some creepy sense of malice in their looks as I passed them on the street, and the very moment they left my field of vision I hear loud "knock" "knock" and feel being pushed from behind.
Somehow, I sent few of them flying within mere split seconds, despite never being into combat sports, nor being strong for my age. The next thing I remember was me running like I never ran before in my life.
The second time it happened, it was almost like in a movie. Being descended upon by 3 or possibly 4 huge dudes, all looking like "how proper gangsters look." I only remember them appearing out of the blue, being taken into chokehold from behind. But that time, I had a 40cm electrician screwdriver with me...
Whatever happened next, I will not speak until my deathbed, but that day my anger very likely saved me my life.
After my recovery (still from first attack, I was not injured in the second,) and finishing school exams, I applied for a student exchange programme in Singapore, and finally got the fuck out of that country at last.
I still thank god for making anger be. Anger and fury can some times be almost beautiful, turning ecstatic.
I was vehemently opposed to my father's attempts to make me carry a weapon since I was 14. I changed my mind after being stabbed for a second time, much more badly (and that happened the same year.)
First time, I was attacked by a gang of homeless orphaned children. It was like that: I just noticed them giving off some creepy sense of malice in their looks as I passed them on the street, and the very moment they left my field of vision I hear loud "knock" "knock" and feel being pushed from behind.
Somehow, I sent few of them flying within mere split seconds, despite never being into combat sports, nor being strong for my age. The next thing I remember was me running like I never ran before in my life.
The second time it happened, it was almost like in a movie. Being descended upon by 3 or possibly 4 huge dudes, all looking like "how proper gangsters look." I only remember them appearing out of the blue, being taken into chokehold from behind. But that time, I had a 40cm electrician screwdriver with me...
Whatever happened next, I will not speak until my deathbed, but that day my anger very likely saved me my life.
After my recovery (still from first attack, I was not injured in the second,) and finishing school exams, I applied for a student exchange programme in Singapore, and finally got the fuck out of that country at last.
I still thank god for making anger be. Anger and fury can some times be almost beautiful, turning ecstatic.