I once thought I knew what I wanted of life and love. The passage of time has corroded those beliefs… I now live my life freely without want or expectation. I’m an honest per. I’ve never lied or deceived anyone. I don’t really know what I’m doing on here… The women I meet in my every day life seem to be pressed from the same mold… just looking for something different. I’m a free spirit, catch me if you can. The warm shower wakes me as the storm in my ears subsides. The stars and black spots fade and my vision returns. I find myself pressed onto filthy shower tiles; slumped against a wall bracing myself up at the knee with one hand while trying to lather my body with the other. My quadriceps and hamstrings are on the verge of mutiny, ready to snap as retribution for my disregard. I teeter in that position for a few more minutes until the water cools the uprising. The gentle shower bathes away the pain and I manage to drag my half cleaned form out of the showers only to start on the painfully impossible task of clothing my tattered body. I sat there like a sac of peeled potatoes kept decent by a strategically placed towel. “The dead-lifts really killed me today,” I thought while picking at the loosened calluses on my hands as my mind slips away on an endorphin high. I really don’t know why I do this anymore; the cooking, planning, meals, supplements, sleep schedules and mind numbing workouts. It used to be something I did as a means to gain social acceptance through the normalization of my inferior physique. However, had that been my only motivation I would have reached my goal and stopped years ago. For a time I wanted to know what it felt like to be strong. I once stared in awe as I watched behemoths toss around weight I’d never dare pick up and wonder what it felt like to be them. I now find that I’m the one being stared at, but that brings me neither pleasure nor satisfaction. Strength and stature are nothing but a façade, like bright pretty feathers on a peacock; it makes lifting groceries a lot easier, but I’ve never once had to leg press anything remotely close to a thousand pounds. Overtime my reas may have changed and shifted, however I think deep down the only rea I ever did it was because I loved it, the struggle; the pain. It is through struggle and adversity that we discover ourselves by stripping away the useless things in life leaving only true passion, meaning and purpose. I’ve approached every facet of my life with the same work ethic and motto, “nothing easy is ever worth it and nothing worth it is ever easy.” My motivations for life can be characterized by the endless pursuit of advancement and the fear of mediocrity. A day cannot me done and rest cannot be had until every bit of me is spent; towards some greater goal something more because for me life has to have meaning and purpose; the endless pursuit of better. The things I seek are not monetary or physical, but experience and life. A life without this hunger and thirst is not life, nor is it death; it is un-life, a zombie like existence. Like my parents, I was a refugee from a country torn by a televised civil war. However, in my youth I was neither cognizant of the injustices they faced nor did I slaved fif hour work days in a foreign country to support a family, but for all the struggles and hardships, they overcame. Compared to them, my struggles always seemed so trivial. It probably explains why I am so relentless in my pursuits because no mater what I do, my hurtles will be but speed bumps to theirs. I’ve long come to terms with the fact that I could never measure up to my parents, but this its never been about measuring up to them or gaining their acceptance; they’ve always been proud of me. This is all about seeing how far I can take the opportunity I’ve been given because talent without application is the greatest sin.

My Ideal Person a woman who knows her worth, has a way with words... and ape shit crazy in bed =]