Addicted

Competition gives me high. It makes me feel alive. When I compete, I am completely in the present. I lose the time sense. I forget my limitations, I forget my worries, and I cease to have multiple identities. In fact, when the competition is at the peak, I merge with whatever I am doing. There is no difference between the actor and the activity.

Competition implies instability. One may succeed or fail while competing. Stability implies prediction. I hate to have a predictable future. Uncertainty is life. Living life on the edge is actual living. The motor neurons perform best when there is danger to life. The brain neurons fire best when they are under pressure to perform. Observe the sentences in this paragraph. They are short. Sentences formed by someone competing. No nonsense approach. Like rain drops falling. Do you see the hurry it implies? Do you see the sense of urgency? Do you see carelessness towards trivial things of life? Do you see a higher sense of purpose?

I love to fight. I can’t have physical fights now. I am grown up. So I fight mentally. That’s where competition comes in. I can virtually fight with millions who are competing with (or against?) me. I might win or lose. That’s not important. What’s important is the act of competing. I am fully alive throughout the process. The process ends after the results are out. Then what would I do? I can compete again if I lose. What if I win? I need one more competition. I am an addict. And I know there is no way out of this addiction. I will be this way all my life. Chucking stability and welcoming challenges. Why? You feel I am crazy? No, I am not. I have to do this, as I know that the day I stop competing, I am dead. And you see I don’t want to die anytime soon.

Tiru