Competition as Philosophy

Everybody bleeds. Everybody dies. Life is a biathalon of bootlicking and one-uppery. Whoever inflicts the most pain onto others while retaining the least resistance rides high without regard to the lifeforce of the others. The human experience is a textbook example of inhumanity.

I was raised by wolves and sharpened by the wisdom of generations long forgotten. From whence I came, I shall return. I am a creature of the earth and a steward of the mind. I’ve spent time alone in the dark corners of alleys, corners, and the fucking pit of my stomach. I’ve seen both the heights of success and the utter disappointment of failure many times over. My greatest accomplishments have been extinguished by unimaginable grief.

I’m most comfortable alone. I perform my best in the company of a chosen few, moreso when everything is on the line. I’m not proud of the family with whom I share a name, or being forced to reinvent myself repeatedly, always out of necessity. I am proud of the family with whom I share my time, who inspire me to build and to constantly iterate upon the foundation.

You never know the true face of evil until you stare that motherfucker down, trying to see where a motherfucker is at. Not physically. Deep in their soul, seven rounds into a fucking title fight. Well after the bloodletting has started, long before a warrior can return to the soil from which they were grown.

The same power that can be used to destroy can be used to build. That same shame and insecurity that kills can be channeled into a body of work much greater than the sum of its individual parts.

Keep betting against me. Fuck you.