Monsters & Coffee

What a morning it is.  Crisp cold monster after a tall hot coffee.  One dripping with sweat warming the soul with ease and serenity.....while the other burns the throat from its ice cold daggers when chugged at a fast pace.  ah yes......motivation rings throughout my ears, as the the sound of white buzzers fill the gym and the cracking of an almost broken bar spins closer to meeting the graveyard of steel and dust.  Miss brown eyes dances on my right shoulder whispering songs of sex and passion......while the monster on the left tells cold stories of my past, guiding my anger out with a middle finger and a chair thrown to its death.  Fuck you chair, fuck you world.  I wear a gold grill placed on my teeth to smile at the ones who once kicked dirt upon my dreams....who laughed at my potential.....and who doubted my every move.  A smile of gold that tells a story of a grid that lead me here....with you.  A half cracked smile that once lived homeless with broke.  I smile of clean to say no more to the Crystal smoke that once filled my lungs with a high that makes sense why so many would turn in everything for another taste.  The problem with meth is that it's just that good.....I'm not going to lie.  But....the best thing about the gym life society is that it's even that much better.  Gym life for life as we drink coffee side by side.  Hand in hand, filling our stomach with swords and weapons, ammo and shields, attacking the society that we once fell capture to.  Society....you will now feel the wrath of my bar, as an earthquake will take you all down to the cracks of hell and into the dark where we the Orchestra call home.

Another coffee.....this time mixed with monster for todays openers.  A hit and quit type day.  Gearing for a meet this saturday.  Gearing up for the small glimpse of light before being dragged back down.  LETS BREATHE! This my friend is what a meet is....the surface of the water where our heads meet the sun!  Reach and grab, hold steady and then stab! Dig your knife deep into the belly of the beast for a feast with the ones who fight in the gym you call home.  Once alone.....now you are a part of a mafia that stretches from this blog to the ones breaking blood vessels to watch you stand.  Yell, "Mother fuckers!" We alone are weak, for numbers make us strong.  As each bars slams, the offices across the street gather canned food, as all the prisoners to money and retirement 4 1 k's panic.  Every bar that is broke the trainers at planet fitness gather their weak-minded sheep under ground for fear of.......us.  For fear of higher standards, and morals that fall from the ski the size of beach balls, crashing upon car windows and shattering "fuel economy cars".  I work hard to put gas in a car.  I don't need or care if a car gets great gas milage.  I drive fast n furious, loud and bold, in a car that eats gas like I eat sheep.

This morning I am writing in the front office next to others, in a room of sun and smiles....maybe this is why the skeletons are in such a good mood, positive, and outgoing.  My dark office with a flicker of light can make our skeletons draw dark and painful......which I do truly love.  I love the dark.  I love pain.....why?  Maybe why is not the right question.  Maybe why not is the right thought process.  Why is it frowned upon to feel safe in the dark?  To feel pain from the past? Embracing our weakness? Atmosphere is everything. Salute.

White Monster 2016

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