What's it all about?
Let me tell you.
I lift because i can.
Because no matter how many times life breaks me,
I know i can come back,
stronger, heavier, angrier, sharper.
Anytime i want.
If i want.
People talk about "struggle" like it's some badge.
They complain about nothing.
Small problems.
Soft lives.
You want to know me?
I grew up with no good around me.
No warm house.
No comfort.
No family support.
Nothing to hold on to.
Nothing to fall back to.
So where do you think all this rage comes from?
I don't know how it feels to lose,
because i never had anything to lose.
I don't know how it feels to win,
because i never received anything to call a victory.
I had nothing.
I got nothing.
Same fucking result.
That's why the iron became my home.
My language.
My identity.
My domination.
My backbone.
Rage isn't destruction.
Rage is fuel.
Rage is the fire that keeps me pushing
when everything else fades.
Iron doesn't lie.
Iron doesn't judge.
Iron doesn't abandon.
It only demands strength.
And i give it.
Indomitable.
Unbroken.
Unmoved.
Unshaken.
What more could i require?
Nothing.
There's nothing left that can put me down.
Because what was supposed to destroy me
only made me harder, heavier, and hungrier.
This is my rage,
and it keeps me alive.