Lotta: The Vision of a Wrestler - Writers Forum

GridCanal · 02-11-2008, 09:28 PM

Now he was beginning to feel the anticipation of the day; no food and no water for two straight days had turned his fingers to twitchy pieces of flesh. The physiological factor from his shrunk stomach told him to dig into his sack of food and devour all what his yellow, feverish eyes saw, but his mind told him to stay in control… just a bit longer.

His legs were beginning to mimic his fingers. He stiffened for a while, trying to hide the loose fit of his unconscious movement.

Sitting down in a chair relaxed him, gave him a little strength. The last couple of days had consumed all his vigor.
Sitting in that metallic fold up chair in the gym was comforting, and destroying to him at the same time. The dark, black curtain which covered the stage consumed his sight. When the dark finally overcame the hungry one’s mind, the dark was disappointed to find the skull was empty. The dark would not feast on this one tonight: another perception had taken this one’s mind.

After the seconds passed, after the minutes, the hours had passed, oh how slowly and devastatingly they did pass. Day and night, pain had found the young combatant, no matter where he hid, that silent red “thump” he felt in his body cavity always found his nerve, constantly hit him with the wrath of Thor’s hammer. Now that “thump” was coming back again. Faint at first, in the region of his chest it beated like a soft drum, then substantially, it rose to a greater mass of force and volume. The ‘thump-de-dump, thump-de-dump, thump-de-dump” grew, grew, and grew to significant strength, chiseled away the confidence, ate away Lady Hope, and produced sweat to pour out of hidden pores. It only lasted a few seconds, but the rapid beating of the heart took the hungry one like the plundering of the hearts of newborn soldiers seeing Ol’ Death on the battlefield for the first time.

Just as quickly the beating of heart came; it died down with as much equal force.

Finally, after many hours of waiting, the weigh ins began. When his weight class was called, the hungry one stepped up with what strength he could muster and stepped on the cold device. Now with the hard part done, he quickly ran to his bag and gobbled down the food that was contained. With strength to lift, he carried above from his bag the maroon singing singlet that had watched for this one night. The proud looking maroon with the hopeful gold glittered on that stage behind that dark curtain. Still hungry, the black curtain once again tried to snatch the maroon and gold, but failed to consume the righteous colors.

Now that every thing was in order, the hungry one allowed those colors to snap on to his skin, brightening his once dark visor. His fingers still twitched, not because of the materialistic objects of food, but because he was still hungry. Those proud colors took him, and turned him into a hungry brute. The red god Ares had consumed his sight.

WriterJohnB · 02-12-2008, 11:59 AM

I read it carefully - twice - and I still have no idea what it's supposed to be or even what the subject matter is.

Sorry,

JohnB

Vee · 02-12-2008, 06:48 PM

I didn't read it carefully and I didn't read it twice. The title is more than enough to tell me what it is about and thus I could understand the text from the title.

The lead up to a wrestler's first match, the nerves, the impatience, the hunger to win.

GridCanal · 02-15-2008, 01:46 PM

Yes, the story is from my experience in wrestling and the never ending struggle in the sport. No matter where you are, it seems as though you are in a constant clash, on and off the mat.

The title Lotta: The Vision of a Wrestler is translated from the Italian word “Lotta” which means “it struggles.” In wrestling, sacrifices are made, and one of the sacrifices is the loss of weight. you lose the weight by the hard and grueling days of work in layers of clothing and literally burn the calories off by losing your water supply. However, this take days, and it is a slow and torturing process. Each day you awake to the grueling revelation; that you cannot eat, no matter how hungry your mind says you are. Each day you grow weaker from this process, and each practice you lose your senses and become dull and distorted. Hallucinations come as your body starts to eat away your own supply of fat and muscle, and the stomach shrinks to an unbelievable size.

This story is taken from one experience of mine in which I lost weight for the first time. I lost so much that my head felt empty, and mixed in with the impatience my fingers started to twitch. I was weak from all the days of "hardly-eating" that it took great strength to sit-up in a chair; it always felt like I fighting the realm of slumber.

It is also allegorical; the dark and black curtain was a stage in which we weighted ourselves in, representing that mocking color of failure, ignorance, and negativity. But when it says that the dark tried to overcome the one’s mind, it was disappointed because of another perception: nothing but pain.

In the end, when the hungry one devours all of his food, it represents the giving of life, and the bringing back of knowledge (such as Adam and Eve eating the apple from the tree of knowledge), or an awakening. When he is fully awake, the dark once again tries to overcome the hungry one’s mind, but is too late when the color of Ares, the god of war, has already given the mind another hunger: the hunger for violence and bedlam.

Ironically, as I’m writing this, in the background on a radio, the wrestling state finals are faintly being broadcasted.