רּ (rĕsh)

pas·sion    ( P )  Pronunciation Key  (pshn)
n.

1. A powerful emotion, such as love, joy, hatred, or anger.

1. Boundless enthusiasm: His skills as a player don’t quite match his passion for the game.
2. The object of such enthusiasm: Soccer is her passion.

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In the midst of a placid Friday morning in the crazy hustle of the gym, I was close to ripping the brass blonde locks of a "friend" of mine.  I say "friend" with the love of all the sarcasm in the world as she’s nothing but a competitive 2-faced <insert derogatory adjective of choice here, please>

Have you ever harboured a passion for something? An emotion so strong that if if you did not yield to it, there’d be an instant sense of deprivation and regret?

Kickboxing… that’s my passion.

At present, it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. I love every facet of it; from its graceful footwork to the savagery of blows in an aqueous motion. Of all the martial arts I’ve done over the years (TKD, Hapkido, Capoeira) I fell into kickboxing quite by accident really.

To condense things, I enquired about core-strength training and got introduced to my trainer David. When I found out he was a pro kickboxer, I did a session with him out of curiosity and the rest as they’d say, is history. That was 2 years ago and we’ve been training ever since.

I think that now if I didn’t train, I think I’d be an angrier person (that pent up rage and all).

Nyways back to my little story. I’ve been real sick for the last couple of weeks and eventhough it might have seemed a good idea for me to NOT train, my doctor gave me the green light to resume my physical training.

Guess what my friend did?

She told my sales manager that I was going to resume my kickboxing  and as such, my manager consequently banned me from all 3 clubs as she thought it was in my best interest to stay at home and do nothing.

I tried telling them that I had gotten the go ahead from my doc to resume my fitness regiment but alas, my cries fell on deaf ears.

And that’s when I got real shitty.

Like I understand my friends being concern about my welfare but wouldn’t you think I’d know better when it came to my physical state of being? Hello, you may own me as a workdrone but you don’t own my soul, retard.

In hindsight, I don’t understand why I keep being nice to blondie as she only has one goal in mind- to fuck over as many people as she can. I think it’s due to the fact, that I HAVE to work with her, that I HAVE to  be nice to her. However this is Altercation#3 and my patience is wearing thin. In my confrontation, I bluntly told her that it was her sheer (cunning) stupidity that had gotten me in this predicament but she said she was just joking.

E-yah.. at the cost of my training unfortunately.

Regardless, I still got to train in the end (practice was off the chain). I didn’t get stopped by nobody and that was because David (my trainer) was ruthless to anyone that tried.

If you must know, I’m not going to confront her or mention this episode again. I just hope that between her blonde locks (which I hope to rip out one fine day), she finds her passion.

Or that it finds her like mine did.

I think there’s something wrong with me… and I’m not referring to my over-excessive use of profanities (I think I fill my curse quota just fine, thank you).

At my workplace, we have over 4,000 members. And in that wee total, we have some seriously gorgeous boys. I’m talking Grade-A-Break-Me-Off-A-Piece-Of-That-Chocolate-Chip-Premium-Beef and if you’re lucky enough, with personality to boot. And with the work that I do, I have to talk to these lads so it’s not as if I’m cut off from them. I get my male clients asking me out so you think with all the boy action buzzing around, I’d be:
a) casually seeing someone
b) dating Mr.Premium Beef

but alas, it’s c) I’m still here by myself.

One of the gripes my mum used to have about me and my messy room back in the day was that I used to keep everything and I mean everything! The thought of throwing out my old TeddyBears or books absolutely horrified me so in me cupboard they went. Primary to high school to college and now on my recent trip back, I still have them and have no means to chuck them out. I’ve managed to keep all my assignments and lil bits of paper from my uni days and graduation was only 3 years ago.

Tis simple: I thrive in familiarity and am lost without it.

It’s been 9 months since my longest relationship ended and you think for the person who had the courage to walk away from it, that I would be okay seeing I initiated its termination.

So why does it still feel like I’m struggling to stay afloat? Why can’t I let it go?

Why won’t I?

My last client that I saw today was absolutely gorgeous.

The bland 411?
28yrs, 6"1, pure muscle, gorgeous eyes and was half-caucasian and croatian. The boy had personality to boot and we got on like a house on fire. He made it clear that he knew that we had chemistry and was hinting that we should perhaps go out.

However did I take the hint?

No.

Cause apparently Reshmi’s retarded as they come.

*sighs* I just cracked a smile and brushed it off.

And thinking about it now, it annoys me. Cause I’m a pedantic type of person and to not know how long will I be in this emotional funk for just frustrates and infuriates me.

Why is it so hard? Why can’t I let it go??