I'm certain as the mole in GMA's face that boxing, or any of its mutations, never occupied a spot in my heart. I also know that I must never voice this out lest I bleed to death from the dagger looks I'll surely receive from my fun-loving, manny pacquiao-obsessed countrymen. Everything it stands for runs contrary to my beliefs. I will not however, expound on this because I've recently developed this nasty dory habit that by the time I’m done with my "belief system", I would have totally forgotten what I initially wanted to write about.
Where was I?

Well, last Sunday, my slightly hung-over being found the opportunity to watch the Beautiful Boxer. I've been meaning to watch this movie but could never find the right time and mood. My bro told me it was a good one so armed with my HOD and a newly-opened nicotine supply, I hit the play button.

Two hours later, I was left with an amalgamation of emotions I was quite unsure if I should cry or window-gaze till kingdom come. I of course did both. Hey! I’m an NGO-worker, multi-tasking is what we specialized in. Oh okay, that was a little bit creepy.

I won’t say that the movie rocked my world or that it was the best one I’ve seen. I also won’t say it was boring or sketchy. I don’t even know how much of it was really based on the life of the hero/heroine, a thai kickboxer. That’s all I’m gonna say, coz like I said, Dory syndrome.

What I am certain of is that for the nth time in two years, I found myself seeing things more clearly through something I used to look unkindly on. Boxing. I’m not and will never be a kickboxer, but I realized that my life runs through a course similar to one. Perhaps the best way to describe this life I’m talking about is through the words of the hero herself. (If you’re wondering about my choice of pronoun, you definitely have not seen this movie, or have no idea what it is).

They don’t know that I don’t like hurting people… but when you’re in the ring you have no choice