Crashbox

There's something about pain...something that makes you feel like you are strong and capable; to have blood dripping from a smashed knuckle, or the burn in your arms after you have been pulling on wrench above your head while sprawled underneath some filthy car, or even the bruised-rib feeling of sleeping on the floor for way too long; these things give a sense of pride and dignity. I look at my blister-covered hands and scarred shins. My back is knotted up like an old sea-rope. My face is stubbly and all my clothes have holes in them. Yet, somehow I feel more a man than ever before. The aching brings on a wry smile, a smile that makes you want to walk tall and confidant as you face the world, surrounded by loved ones, and still somehow alone...Strange, that.