The whacks, the cuts, the pricks, the kicks. They come from any corner. Some of them are intentional, some of them are not. Intention doesn't seem to matter. When the whacks come, they do their thing, they do their damage, and you carry on. Usually they just leave small nicks and bruises. No major wounds. The major ones are rare.
But there is an accumulation. It all adds up. Everything counts. So you carry the bruises, you carry the scars... they come from the friendlies and the unfriendlies. Those from the friendlies are more insidious. The are the unexpected torpedoes. They surprise you. And sometimes surprise is not your friend.
You have friends. But sometimes your friends are not your friends.