Saboteur

  Have you ever been on the ledge of a roof? Looking down on the distance separating you and a gory splat on the ground, and you can hear a subtle but distinctive voice telling you to jump. Or when you're passing by a huge hole and you can almost feel it drawing you into it. I heard somewhere (watched a youtube video, I'll leave a link) that it's a natural part of our wiring. HUmans have a tendency to self sabotage naturally. That means we're naturally inclined to do things that our minds know will hurt us. 

You may be familiar with the term kamikaze or 'banzai' if you know a little about history. In world war two Japanese soldiers used to do a bayonet charge where they would rush directly into enemy lines, who mind you were mostly firing live rounds, wielding swords and bayonets. They knew they were charging to their deaths but they still did it because to them it's death before dishonour. Kamikaze pilots on the other hand used to load up their planes with fuel and ammunition before taking off. They would later dive into their American enemies' ships and blowing them up. Imagine facing an enemy who is not afraid to die, not just that, they are looking forward to it. If you returned from a kamikaze flight you were seen as a coward

Sometimes I find myself knowingly putting myself into cycles of behaviours I know are harmful, some in the short term and some in the long term. I do not know what to blame. I look at the problems I have, most of which I have spawned myself and I almost hate how simple the solutions are. I despise how little effort is needed to overcome them yet they look insurmountable in my mind. Instead of tackling the problem at its roots, I find myself tackling how it makes me feel. It's like I'm running head on, blindly at a gun pointed at me. I don't know how it works. Maybe part of me is hoping the bullet hits me faster so I stop feeling the tension of the impending and looming danger.

My kamikaze is fuelled by fear. A dread of going back to base still intact. I'm afraid of coming back mortally wounded, I'd rather die at war than come back bearing the scars and memories of the battlefield. I'm appalled when I think of coming back bearing the brunt of the expectation of my fallen comrades, fulfilling the promises I made in the heat of battle haunted by the ghostly words of those I left on the battlefield. Sometimes I even feel like it's my duty to die on the battlefield, that I may serve more importance as a memory, as a lesson rather than a teacher. I am not one to teach, or maybe I'm just a coward. A rookie feeling my way through a war