Day-dreaming with bull races

I know I should be focusing on next week's exams, but I can't help day-dreaming with my villages' bullrunning festivals and races. I shiver with cold just thinking of the possibility of being hit by a bull. The smell of wild blood and uncontrolled strength is thrilling and the feeling of danger is exciting. I can picture myself in a situation where I have put the wrong foot and just within a tenth of a second of not paying absolute atention I am at the mercy of the bull. I can feel the time stop and my own mind talking to itself amidst the silence: my friend, we're going to die...

But will I have the courage to get closer to the limit, to put myself in risk of pain, to poke the Death asking for an extreme game? Why is that rush of adrenaline so appealing to men? Why do we feel a chemical in the first instance??

Dear readers, you shouldn't worry about this blog's writer. I am neither brave or skilful enough to dodge a bull and I am not silly/mad enough to cross the line that separates safety from challenge. You'll have to bear me for a long time yet.

Love and freedom.