Insults and Stones

“The first human who hurled an insult instead of a stone was the founder of civilization.” ~Sigmund Freud
I really wish this could be a false statement, but nonetheless it is completely true.

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A little personal back story of mine:
Last night I performed at Unplugged, the school event for acoustic performances. A ton of people showed up, probably over 100 which is actually a lot for me to perform in front of. The largest audience I've ever performed solo in front of before was probably 1300-1400 students and teachers at a school assembly last year. The show didn't start until 7pm and I was the 12th out of 14 to perform, but by 5:30 pm my nerves had set in hard. I was shaking uncontrollably and I felt like vomiting. I hadn't had nerves that bad for a performance since I was 10 years old. It probably didn't help that I had to stay at the school all day because I wouldn't have been able to go back to the school for the show otherwise, nor did it help that I hadn't eaten since breakfast. So I had to sit patiently with my shaking nerves for nearly three hours just waiting until that moment I showed my heart on my sleeve.

Every performance was fantastic, and even any major mistakes anyone made were covered by everything that went well and sounded amazing in the song. There were amazing guitar players, spectacular singers, a deep poet, and catchy ensembles. After every performance I asked myself, "How am I going to be able to follow that?" Everyone's skill only made my nerves worse. Some of my friends were talking behind us, so Bear and I kept throwing them dirty looks and telling them to shut up for courtesies' sake. They're teenagers, but they should know by now it's not polite to babel on with their own conversation when someone is granting you to listen to their artistry.

After washing my hands (an obsessive compulsive thing I need to do before playing the piano) and sitting on my hands for a while to warm them up, it was my turn to perform. I shakily introduced the song I was about to play (Fantasie-Impromptu by Chopin), checked the sound of the piano, and began.

It was all a rush of adrenaline. My fingers were flying across the keys faster than I could see or even control. I could hear the murmur of the crowd and see faces in the the corner of my eye, but it meant nothing anymore. I left them all behind in a trail of colors soaring from the strings of piano, gracefully hammering out months of sweat and tears on a shadowed piano. No matter how many mistakes I made, and there were quite a few, I never let myself backtrack. I kept thinking, "A great pianist corrects their mistakes and creates perfection. A great performer does let their performance falter at any cost. They power through it and keep going." That was when I promised myself to be a great performer and not a great pianist. And when the quiet end came and mellowed out my heartbeat, I stood up and gratefully accepted the applause as pianists are trained: with a bow. My friends won't let me forget it: I got the only standing ovation of the night, and how glorious it was to see my hard work had paid off so that the general public appreciated my interpretation of classical music. The sound guy sitting near the end of the piano had a front row view of my hands and was astonished. After my performance he even said if he could hear beautiful music that every night, he would have wonderful dreams for the rest of his life.That was a beautiful moment.
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You're probably wondering by now what that whole story had to do with insults and stones, and I thank you for your patience to read this far. I'm getting to my point.

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One stone thrown:
During the school day on Monday, something rather unpleasant happened to me. I had just bent down to tie my shoe and my "friend", Nick, kicks my butt. That's sexual assault, isn't it? I couldn't be sure at the time, and I'm still not sure. It was the middle of break from 3rd period, and there were more than 30 people standing right there in front of the student store, and I had just gotten kicked in the butt by a so called friend. I was furious, embarrassed, and I had no idea what to do, so I just stormed off back to the classroom to spend the last 4 minutes of break alone.

I hate violence so I don't punch people or inflict any physical way of hurting people on purpose. Even if I slap someone jokingly, I never do it hard enough to hurt. That limited my options of how I could retaliate, and obviously I didn't retaliate at all. That kick required no form of civilized communication from the kicker, the kickee, or the witnesses. I was completely alone and everyone else had taken the obvious excuse of oblivion or denial, so I reverted back to my primal instincts: fight or flight. All this thought process in a split second, and all he does is laugh because he thinks it's funny. I can tell you for sure that this bruise does not in any way whatsoever feel funny.
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One insult thrown:
Nick went to the Unplugged event as well. He had come back to school early for a band meeting, so he hung out with me for a while. However, as soon as our other friends arrived, he ditched me to go get coffee and took those friends with him leaving me sitting alone at a table with my nerves growing ever stronger. That certainly made me quite angry at him so I avoided him for the rest of the night.

Just tonight I was informed by one of my friends sitting next to him that he made a comment during one of the performances. He told me that I didn't want to know what Nick said, but I made him tell me anyways. "You know what's great about Unplugged? Everyone here is hot except for Tamie* and Bear*." He insulted my best friend and me literally behind our backs. It makes me furious that he insulted Bear because she is a beautiful girl, both inside and out. I already knew I'm not most guys' definition of "hot" because I'm not short and skinny, but it sinks so much deeper because of that. He didn't have to rub that fact in, and yet he did.
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I'm very glad my friend told me about what Nick said because now I can finally have this problem dealt with. For months Nick has been bugging me and insulting in little ways like dumbing down my intelligence or not listening to what I say, and he won't stop no matter how many times I've asked him to. He doesn't know when he goes too far, but now he will.

Stones require cowardice; they keep the conflict away from the stone thrower but still inflict the pain. Insults require communication between two or more individuals, a key to the survival of society and civilization, and burn deep into the minds of the ones insulted. If an insult if mean enough, it can stick in someone's mind for years, causing torment and poor self image and anything more the insulter wishes to inflict for as long as they remember.

One stone, one insult. Each thrown my way on the same day. Each inflicting it's own baneful pain. Yet, without them, civilization would not exist.

B-sharp, never B-flat, always B-natural
:C) ♫ŤΔΜΪΞ

*Names have been changed to protect privacy