Double Edged.

1. Snake box.

2. Dumb-bell

3. Danger

4. Deadlif

5. Dynamite

6. Nature

7. Holy grail

Snake Box
I was brought into this world spending my first few months away from home, isolated in an
incubator, prematurely born with an ambilical cord around my throat, which almost suffocated
me before my very first breath.

My mother was made aware i would be physically behind everyone else my age, i was also gifed
with 'Glue ear' from which i suffered with tremendously, countless nights i laid in bed, tears
melting pathways down my face as i struggled to sleep or at least get some rest, waking up to
crusty pools of gunk and blood besides my ears which occasionally stuck to the pillow and made
what became a familiar tear sound as i rose my head.

Wiggling my fingers in my ear to what i realise now was a manic attempt to alleviate the pain,
but only making it worse in my desperation, tears streaming down my face as im smashing the
pillow, with my little clenched first of despair, blood and yellow stained my pillow, for what have i
done to deserve this?

The pain and the ringing seemed to blend into one, i remember begging the devil to please take
my body and take me away because i felt so abandoned by life, ruptured ear drums and vile
'medicine' became the mantras of my youth, my youth of which i shared growing up as a
younger brother.

My elder brother had his own struggles, dont we all? I guess i became a way for him to express
his reaction to being subject in his own life to abuse and neglect, but he could not see i was
suffering also, and could not see the extent of his actions or the impact they may have had, i was
small and quite and i kept things myself, so i was an easy target, a little brother.

I remember being locked in the garage afer being beaten one time, crying to myself in the dark
wishing i wasnt alive, i remember being mocked because of my weight as i struggled to keep up
one day as we climbed a hill, another day being forced to kiss a girl when i never wanted to, 'I
will always be the first to do anything out of me and you' i remember him stating to me, another
time we went on a bike ride, i was borrowing a bike which ironically had no brakes, he took us
down a big long grassy hill besides some farm land, which lead into an estate below, covered in
stones all the way down its windy path which submerged into the trees and farmlands. At first i
tried to bike down slowly by scraping my feet along the cobbles and stones, but as i was
approaching the decline i started picking up more speed than i could slow down, my legs were
short and i struggled to reach the floor - i started to get scared as my pace built up, my older
brother was laughing aloud as im squeezing the brakes to no avail, im struggling to comprehend
what to do in the fear as i was building more and more speed, my handle bars were shaking, i
remember the whole bike was vibrating from its movement and from the cobbles, i diddnt know
what to do - i looked ahead and the path went along a bend, it looked really sharp but probably
because of my speed, i was going too fast to attempt the corner. I hear my brother shout at me
to jump off the bike into the field by the side, i take a glance but i freeeze up in fear as it looked
too dangerous at my pace, i take one last glance ahead, and i feel as if my body has been
catapulted into space just missing a concrete post by a foot or two. I open my eyes, blurry vision,
cradled among the trees and thorn bushes - i hear my brother running to me, im wondering why
he had no t-shirt on... I see it covered in blood in his hands, as we struggle to climb back up the
hill together. I remember being laid on my grandparents sofa having the thorns pulled out my me
with tweasers looking up into my grandads eyes, feeling the thorns slide out of me as a slither of
blood would react to its withdrawal and make its way down the pathways of my face.

Darkest of all, being sexually abused in a game of 'Titanic'. 'You can be rose, and i will be jack', I
remember hearing him say, before taking my clothes and taking me under the bed, from which i
recall seeing my mums eye peep through the crack in the door, unable to see us and what was
going on as we were under the bed, hidden from sight.

Mum, help me! I screamed inside, as i devled into an abyss of fear.

I grew to resent and became scared of going to my fathers, why would i look forward to it? I
would return with bruises and mental wounds, unable to express or explain, i remember
breaking down in tears as a young boy because i no longer wanted to go to my fathers. I dont
feel i ever had a true connection growing up with my father - i recall getting changed in a
changing room with him, feeling bestranged by being so close and alone to this man who was
my father. I used to go kickboxing with my dad and my brother for a period of time, but I diddnt
really know him growing up and i dont know if he really knew me. I knew suffering, i knew pain.
I remember in a school assembly when me and a friend were doing hand gestures to each other,
laughing and joking, when one of the teachers saw me and thought i was doing the gestures at
the head teacher, who happeend to be in the middle of us both. She abruptly got my attention
and pulled me to the side, to speak with the head teacher. Neither of them cared to listen to my
side of the story. I was forced to say sorry, for something i diddn't do, when i spoke my heart i
was closed down and forced into submission.

I spent much of my younger years absorbed into video games like pokemon and GTA and i loved
Dragon ball Z. I remember one day an older guy stole my pokemon game card, he must have
been pretending to be my friend. We was playing in my mums garden afer school one day when
i lef my game boy on the table with my pokemon game in it, and he said he was going home.
Afer he lef i realised my pokemon game had gone missing out of my game boy! I diddnt see
him for years afer, I had a maximum level pidgeotto on that game card too!

I enjoyed competitive games like beyblade, and i had a purple beyblade which seemed to be
unbeatable, i beat everyone at school with it and one weekend my step brother came to ours for
the weekend, i kept beating his beyblades with my one which really irritated him as i was
bragging. Later that day my beyblade went missing, i searched all over in a panic and when i
asked to check if my step brother took it, i was told no as he went home. I never saw my
beyblade again! I remember one time i got really jealous, i saw an xbox game on the table afer
school one day, i got really excited thinking it was for me - i stripped it open and delved into the
game for hours, it was a great game! It was a game where you kill skeletons, but it wasnt my
game, it was my step brothers! I remember on one of my birthdays my mum took me and him to
a theme park, we was sat eating inside the fast food shop and he was mocking me because of
my weight in front of my mum, i eventually lost my temper with him and my mum told me to
calm down!

My mother tried her best with the tools she had, but it became more difficult for me having to
move home so ofen growing up. Which i had no choice in, seeing my mum in bad relationships,
i was loosing my first friends because of these moves, i lost my very first girlfriend because we
had to move, her name was sophie and her hair was ginger. I never got the chance to tell her i
was moving schools. I remember crying in the arm chair in the living room feeling lost and
frustrated, my mother not understanding nor caring to understand.

I was sitting depressed in a pathetic heap, in my mothers kitchen corner with a knife to my wrist,
feeling suicidal, becoming overwhlemed with emotions, feeling them build, when my mothers
boyfriend walks through and stares down at me on the floor, seeing me sitting besides the
washing machine. Its cylinder... Still spinning, round and round, in a momentous droning tone in
which i found myself rocking with, rmm rmm rmm, rmm rmm rmm, its cycle...The only thing
keeping me... Keeping me..In tears. He walked on by with a smirk on his face, while i know he
made a joke earlier about having sex with my mum and he diddnt think i would catch on. He
probably never saw the knife, or the tears hidden in my hand. He walked on through the room,
as if it were empty, to the room where my mother had their new born son, my baby brother.
Who was wrapped in her arms in a mothers loving embrace, i could see the love in her eyes, and
i yearned for it.

Shortly afer this i moved into my Grandparents, confessing that the reason i moved was
because it was closer to school, unable to comprehend let alone unravel the neurotic, emotional
web and shadow that had been cast unto thyself.

Dumb-bell

Time had passed and i was living at my grandparents, as i grew from my roots. I had a tendancy
to please other people, ofen at the sacrifice of myself, albiet little to my knowledge. I was a
chubby boy whos nipples would bounce and become sore from rubbing on my t-shirt during PE
sessions, my mother gave me small round plasters but they always fell off and my nipples kept
rubbing... Maybe i should have just cut holes through the T-shirt, that way they wouldnt rub!

I was qwerky but scared to voice my truth. I remember playing imaginary games in my head,
seeing people itch their arm in my perihperal view, imagining that they were scratching me and
the sensations and butterflys that it gave me were amazing, it may have stemmed from wanting
someone to touch my soul, for wanting to express in a comfortable place and to have a true
connection.

I had a strong desire to be something, or be someone, to dedicate myself to something

meaningful, i had a huge emotional build up inside me. From being told i would be phsyically
behind everyone else, and afer holding back my true voice for situations which were beyond my
control, and through all the pain i had kept in, i needed a direction to vent, i needed it.

At this time i had many friends, i had little or no enemies, i was a people pleaser by nature with a
gradual neurotic drive towards a goal of wholeness. My personality was filtered depending on
who i was around so i guess i naturally preffered to be alone where i felt i could be myself. I
remember starting to play a game called runescape at this time, i fell in love instantly with it, the
template, its PVP and competitive aspects, its music - still giving me the nostalgic tingles i got as
a kid as i re-play its syllables my mind. Its an online role playing game, i would sit up until late
hours of the morning to wake up early and play it again before heading to school - i
imparticularlly enjoyed the PVP / competitive aspects.

It was my 13th birthday, and my mother brought me a dumb-bell set to where i now lived at my
grandparents. The dumb bells were grey and plastic coated, which were filled with sand. I placed
them in my bedroom, and i would see them everytime i woke up. The weights were
1.5KG,3KG,5KG. Little did i know the that a seed had been planted and how it became my altar.

I gradually picked up the dumbell, I started doing bicep curls and advanced to press ups initially,
gradually flowering into strength training and powerlifing, with the occasional strong man and
yoga session.

People started to notice and make comments, it made me feel like someone, it made me feel
noticed.

I liked to feel strong, it grew on me, literally. I had turned my nans garage into a gym at 13 with a
bench press, yoga matt, a barbell, punchbag, and gradually littered with all sorts of training
equipment, not forgetting my grey cement york weights which have carved, or better cemented
themselves into my psyche.

Me and some friends helped set up the punching bag in the gym, we used to throw and catch it
over head to each other as a form of training, and i remember one guy called cameron wanted
to try and catch it, but i threw the punchbag too hard and too high, the next thing i remember is
seeing two arms waving in the air and a punch bag on top of him struggling to move.

Me and friends used to be in the garage daily, even if we werent training at times. Me and jack
would have bench press competitons right at the start, i was very compeititive, he was a big guy
naturally, one of the strongest genetically around and probably not far from double my bone
structure and body mass. At the start he would beat me with endurance and strength, laughing
in a humble yet confident tone while still repping on as i reached failure, but my persistance
grew, the fire grew as i learned what fuel to add, and before long i was the champion, in my
mind. I remember splitting the punching bag in half one time in a flurry of power shots fuelled
with hidden emotion having to keep taping it up to so it can endure another round of emotional
vent expressed as phsyical movements compiled with rage.

Another time some girls were on the floor while we were training, sat only inches away from the
bench press where some 20kg weight plates were gently resting above their heads on the
barbell, wobbling loosely near the end. Someone was repping the bench press, the metal started
to clang loudly, as he gasps in a high pitch struggle his feet are suddenly planted on the floor, the
form of his movement is breaking, his muscles weaken as he knows his error and attempts to
guide the barbell to safety in his last plea of motion to the safety catch....In the corner of my eye,
i see it. He drops it and SMASH, the plates come hurtling down leaving my garage floor chipped
only just missing the girls who were sitting in ignorance on the floor unable to hear, unable to
see what was going on around them because of the loud music and the deep conversation
among themselves.

I started researching religiously, from what started off as how to gain muscle, which through the
years progressed into more advanced areas. Nutrition, bodily adaptions, bio-mechanics, strength
training, psychology, nutrition, meditation / awareness, ancient histories / shamanism,
symolism, yoga, magnetism, esoteric occults, and pretty much anything and everything from
here on. This is where i first saw Elliot hulse - when he was new to youtube, Omar Isuf,
Scoobysworkshops and Osho, among countless other influencial people. During my studies ( this
is the first time i took education seriously, as it was not indoctrined, i had a direction in which to
support, rather than being trained to support a direction. ) I remember i kept coming across the
pineal gland and fluoride, i remember the curiosity grew and grew, until it got to the point where
i would open the articles to read, leaving them on tabs, only to close them due to lack time and
an overwhelming queue of new articles to read. I researched more and more, as my mind
become more open, i would end up having 10s, 20s of tabs with articles saved which i needed to
read, i watched countless hours of youtube videos, documentaries about Malcom X, Nicola Tesla,
Magnetism, videos by PHD and MDs. I had a notepad of URLS which i would save to watch at a
later date as i kept deleting the tabs because they were too overwhelming. I was obsessed. I was
neurotic and i felt a compulsive drive to achieve my goals.

The years past and i grew, mentally, physically and spiritually. I was using mantras daily and at
nights in synchronisity with my breathing techniques, envisioning my peronal growth and
development. The barbell became my religion, my garage was my church, the platform became
my altar. I would finnish school and go straight to my garage to workout, while friends would pop
by to say hello and train with me. I remember doing breathing techniques in school integrated
with awareness, obserivng the rates at which everyone was breathing at, while i would make a
slow steady inhale...I should have been listening to the teacher!

My dedication begin to cover all areas of my life to the point where i would dream about my
goals. Sweat began to follow engrained pathways down my face forming pools of what once laid
tears, muscular pain replaced or numbed the emotional pain i had always felt, and my personal
goals made me blind to the entirety.

At a young age i enjoyed cooking for myself, i guess because of the speculative analytical nature
which developed in me, i enjoyed cooking, which not many people understood at that age, but i
like to know what i was ingesting and abosrbing to a degree...I remember a strange thing i used
to do was wash the plates before use, to ensure it was clean, or at least give it a wipe with some
kitchen roll.

One of the main two mantras i used were, 'grow', meaning to grow physically, grow mentally and
grow spiritually', i would recite these every night before bed, and throughout the days,
envisioning the words in my mind with power behind them as my imagination grew. I picked this
up from Elliot hulse when i was around 15, which is when my journey adapted course, i become
more interested in strength training, rather than gaining muscle mass, even at 13 when i started
training i would get called 'boulder arms', over time I become more mature, i started to see the
importance of functionality. Another mantra i used to use was 'i am' from which i had some
mystical experiences with, repeating daily for weeks in my mind. Something described like as a
kundalini awakening, my imagination returned to me and i was creating colours in my mind, in a
cyclone of emotional depth, playing with awareness in my mind and body, as i would catch with
myself in a field of bliss. Like a flowering lotus, i was growing towards my source of light.

Danger
Three of us were by the side of my grandparents bungalow, when we heard some older lads
making a racket outside. We peepep over the fence and we saw a moped on the floor near the
garages. We waited for the older lads to clear off before we scrambled to the moped, to see the
reckage. 'hold the wing mirror in your pocket for me, while i get the battery out of it', my friend
asked.

Without thinking i put the wing mirror in my pocket...When a car pulls up behind us, the screech
of the handbrake and the stones making way like a vigorous scrape, and we hear shouting... Oh
shit, the police! I looked for an exit, i dont know why - i probably wouldnt have ran even if i had
commited the crime, but i wanted to escape, i was innocent, i diddnt even want to be there. The
police officers quickly arrested us, and within minutes my nan came flying outside the house,
realising whats going on screaming at me 'im ashamed of you', among other heart breaking
things for someone who was innocent, in an out of control rage. Yet again i was suffering alone,
in silence, the now mother figure of my life had cast me off, she was ashamed. Because of a
projected assumption, because i said yes to carrying the wing mirror for a friend, i got arrested
for Vehicle thef, and recieved a reprimand. My fingerprint taken, my picture taken, and i was
locked in the cell, my real mother came to pick me up, declaring her dissapointment in me. In
her eyes i was a criminal, in the eyes of the woman who brought me into this world i was a
failure, in the eyes of the woman which i so much needed love.

I made my statement, i gave the truth and recieved a reprimand... I was Ignored. I always tried
and always have tried, to give my truth. But its not easy, with limited self knowledge, when your
identity is based on lies and recieving ears dont want to listen, or cant listen.

I have always been curious, which at times lead me to some perculiar experiences, i was first
introduced to cannabis at 15, i remember hearing about an apparent legal version going around,
so me and some friends went to the local 'head shop' and brought some, it was called black
mamba.

We was at my friends house where we decided to smoke the black mamba, afer smoking a few
joints i diddnt seem to notice much of an effect, maybe a head high at most, but i must have
been the only one. One guy was hanging his head out of the window, trying to puke but failing
miserably as it went down the windowsill, at the same time another guy was loosing his temper
at him for making a mess. I was sat in the kitchen next to jack, who started sweating in the face,
it got worse and he started swaying forwards and backwards with a dead expression on his face,
eyes staring coldly into nothingness. Sweat now dripping from his face as he's looking into the
corner of the room next to the cupboards, 'whats up jack' i ask him, 'Chuckys watching me', he
replied before breaking into tears. Shivering as i gave him a hug and tried to make him feel
better.

AHHHH, a girl screams as she races through the kitchen, past chucky who was still stood in the
room staring at jack, her foot steps stampeded up the stairs into the bedroom, a few of us
followed up in panic as she was clearly freaking out, racing up the stairs afer her we approached
the bedroom, which had its door pushed to.

I press the door open gently, i walk in not knowing what to expect and in the corner of the room
i see her, shivering in panic with her knees pressed tightly on her chest, rocking forwards and
backwards in the dark with the curtains closed, her hands mixed and mingled in her blonde hair,
shivering in a primal grasp holding onto her roots, blue eyes pouring with fear as she delved into
an unforseen experience.

Danger danger danger, was the name of legal high i smoked for the fourth and last time, i dont
know entirely why i smoked legal highs again afer witnessing black mamba and its effect on
those around me. I was about to go to sleep, i remember smoking a joint of it and feeling very
high, too high, like i might whitey.. Im telling myself its a waste if i dont finnish it, and that im a
pussy if i dont. i had a strong desire to throw it down, it was almost sickening, but i ignored and
carried on until the last toke.

I laid in bed, eyes closed. Thats all i remember, when blackness surrounded me. I felt wide
awake, so very awake, very restless so i try to sit up, but couldnt. I tried to move, but couldnt, i
tried to listen but heard nothing, i tried to talk, and i tried to listen for my heat beat, or anything
to prove i existed, but nothing, timeless. Fear was growing like a jamaican bush fire for what felt
an eternity, but i was stranded, burning in my own heat as my mind was loosing its bearings,
somehow i managed to muster up enough strength to make a scream for help, HELP i slurred in
a desperate plea.

The light turns on, but my eyes are already open, red marks cover my chest as it hits me, i jump
up in an energetic manic, not being able to explain how i felt or what was going through my
mind, but something became clear from this enegetic buzz, 'if you dont calm your heart rate you
will die', i feel, or heard, or told myself, which brought me back into my body... I feel, the blood
coarsing through my veins, my heart almost bursting struggling to maintain its momentum, my
circulatory system almost exploding within my body to cause a supernova, my HR was high,
dangerously high, my vision went blurry...I calmed my mind, I lost its grip and went blurry again, i
calmed my mind, i lost its grip and my vision went blurry again, bodily sensations were fading... I
calmed my mind, managed to make sense of myself, begging my nan to help me calm my mind,
she's desperately chanting my grandad needs me, my grandad needs my help, im thinking hes
disabled and needs your help, which really helped me stay with it. If it werent for my
grandparents, i dare think what position i would be in. At the same time as im trying to calm my
heart rate down i could feel the most intense energy shooting through my spine, sending a
boiling sensation to my head which felt like it was bursting, when my mind slipped.

I thought the dog was a colour, splurting random words in a sentance which i strung together
manically as i realised im not myself, i grabbed an apple taking several bites to throw it, tasteless,
thinking to myself if i take my clothes off it will help in this realm, to which i stripped naked.
Getting lost in contemplations, my mind was creating its own realities with sporatic thoughts
entering in at will, it felt like the most perculiar cycle to be trapped in, while constantly battling
with this unforseen blurry force which kept grasping my consciousness and felt like it was
sucking my soul from my body repeatedly for hours as i strafed around the house like a neurotic
shadow looking for its light.

I laid down in my bed, exhausted and broken, feeling strange, feeling something building, the
only way to relate is by having what feels the best orgasm ruined repeatedly, it was something
deep within, building and building. It kept building this way, until it really fucking scared the shit
out of me, but it kept building, it seemed limitless, it diddnt care for my concern. At first i
thought i could just be experiencing a body orgasm as i had experienced and directed these
before in meditations, but it felt more primal, more raw, like it extended beyond my body, I could
experience this sensation in all my senses. Next, I saee myself in a hospital bed attached to a
heart rate monitor - i glance across the room and see my family, my friends, and what seems to
be everyone i have ever met, staring down at me besides my bed as i laid there motionless. I am
obsering from a different angle at a height above everyone, looking down at their faces and
feeling their emotions as they glared unto me, full of compassion, i see my heart rate on the
green pulse monitor next to my phsyical body, beep, beep, beep, it goes on... Im just floating,
watching... And nil. It stopped, the line goes still, dead, and makes a constant tone.

Flurries of visions of people trying to get me to remember myself, visions of myself next to
myself begging me to remember to wake up before its too late, when im plunged once again
into the depths in a cyclone of energy and emotions. A perculiar tunnel effect with a hint of no
return, not able to move, not able to feel my pulse again. But this time its different, it feels like
something. It feels like DEATH, it felt like an infinity.

I tried to focus, but all i saw, all i felt, all i experienced was death. Timeless, death. I was lost, in
an abyss which seemed to be sown, being jestered and poked and being planted. I had lost hope,
i felt morphed with my empty surroundings, almost totally morphed into the nothingness i felt
myself slipping away for good, when i heard or felt something from afar telling me to 'wake up',
'you can do it', or something similar. In the distance it seemed like a cloud, a gold or yellow orb,
now being aware of a new sensation, a certain will power, a certain strength, combined with the
feeling of immense regret for my life and my lifes actions, and an ever growing sence of
redemption, or greater purpose, a struggle began, i wasnt aware of it but i was struggling in ways
i cant word, it seemed like an impossible feat but i had a gold orb in sight, a limitless power
which drove me unto itself. Everything was moving, i felt something pulling, but i was pushing at
the same time, when everything seemed to polarise. A haunting possessed laughter came
screeching into my mind from the pit of my very own vocal cords to wake me and my
grandparents abruptly, again.

Deadlif
The years passed as my dedication grew, i was taking boiled eggs to school in my pockets, while
wearing pyjamas under my school trousers. On my 16th birthday, i started training at Yarborough
gym, it was only a 10 minute walk from my nans, at 18 i had chosen to venture into powerlifing,
where i had chosen to dedicate myself absolutely, to vent all my internal mustard and to seek
purpose. I started training with some friends, we had many great sessions together. Around this
time is when i heard about Zyzz, who was an internet sensation, who unforatuntely passed away
- but his message made me feel alive, it gave me a passion, zyzz sprayed my fire with an
aesthestic fuel which expanded and turned my fire unto itself.

I would buy books, read articles and watch countless youtube videos on the Squat, Deadlif, and
Bench press among other supporting exercises and variations, this is where i become more
dedicated, i took my training up a notch, and found my fire within. My first 200kg deadlif was
when i was in my teenage years.

I become stronger at the deadlif and grew heavier in the body, but lighter in the soul. The
deadlif became my favourite movement, partly because the amount of weight one can lif and
the leverages and moment arms were more suited for my body type, but also because at 19 i
reached out to Andy Bolton, the first man in the world to deadlif 1000LBs, afer some
convesations he became my powerlifing coach, i drove down to stoke for training sessions with
him feeling starstruck, we shared routines online and nutrition advice, i brought his book which i
had to get imported from america, it wasnt cheap! it was called 'deadlif dynamite' and i got it
signed by him. My life seemed like a miracle, i was obssessed and directed in a sport, completing
my goals, adapting and overcoming my obstacles and i was being coached by one of the best in
the world, it fuelled my ambitions ever more so, i was in love with training, obsessed, in a world
of my own.

At 21, i joined the military. I wanted a rewarding long term career which would see me into
retirement. I wasnt entirely sure what path to take, this seemed to be the most ideal path for me
while struggling and it seemed to make my family happy. I remember instructors through the
basic training making comments on my body and strength, one of them said 'keep your eye out
for this one' to the others, as i sprinted on ahead of the group. I remember at 14 i was accused
of using steroids one time stood outside my garage gym besides my grandparents. I always had
a small bone structure so i guess my muscles stood out more, but i felt small. I started training
with one of my school mates called nico, he had good genetics, a bigger and denser bone
structure than me, he quickly adapted and became strong, and ate like a shit brick house, he
started getting PT sessions and took his own journey into strongman. We trained together for
years, and pushed each other beyond our limits bursting with passion and sweat, many
memories were made and meals have been eaten with this beast.

I had my join date for the military, i google searched for a forum regarding the training dates to
see if i could message anyone who was going - i found someone with the same start date and we
sent a few messages to one another. I remember on the first day sat in the room having a
briefing, looking around to see if i could see him - looking among hundreds of people when i find
myself glaring into the eyes of another guy, looking right back to me. That must be him, i felt.
Ironically, it was. We were joining the same trade, our service number issued was 3 numbers
difference which means we must have enlisted on the same day or two, we were in the same
flight, we joined raf brize norton together at the same time, where we became room mates,
studying the same course and we were both into powerlifing, and became best friends
naturally, he was the pidgeon and i was the gorilla. He had the chest and i had the back.

I lost some of my strength from the military training, the systems of adaption are different, the
type of movements integrated are different, but i soon got my form and momentum back. I was
posted at RAF Brize norton afer my Logistics Movements training, I enjoyed all the training, but
we always do looking back. At this point i loved the pain, as it was a prelude to growth for me,
my arms were nicknamed the guns of Graham, and another nickname was big back Graham.

Me and dumaresq started training together, he had already been training before he joined the
RAF and he was fairly strong, we were great training partners, pushing each other to our limits
and ofen to breaking point which always ended in sweat, tears and laughter, knowing next time
we will do better. We would scream at eachother in the face until we were red, make our own
little routines up to get ourselves psyched up, lifing heavy weight and grunting aloud for fun. I
started training with different types of equipment here, using chains and bands, this is also
where i heard about a coach called James Jeffries, he was the BDFPA ( British Drug Free
Powerlifing Assossiation ) Bench press coach, and the British bench press record holder, I
remember reccomending him as a coach to the RAF powerlifing team afer i made contact with
him and travveled down to kings lyyn for some training sessions with him. He had a great
approach and was knowledgeable and experienced, ironically the RAF chose to use him, he saw
potential in me and was telling me to do national competitions. I had this in my scope, it fitted
perfectly, i would join the RAF powerlifing team and take it from there, become the champion in
the RAF, the interservices, and then national competitions where i wanted to set world records,
and set my name in stone to become a coach in powerlifing and share the knowledge and
experience i had accuired. I had it all marked out, i had adapted myself perfectly, masterfully, i
was on course, i was deadlifing 220kg for 5 repetitions when the RAF record was 210KG for 1
repetiton in my age and weight category, i was around 84kg body weight, and i planned to cut
down to the 83kg Body weight category to compete.

I travelled to kings lynn a few more times, one of which was for a powerlifing competition as a
pre-requisit type event to competing in the nationals. It was a long drive but it felt purposeful, i
was driven. I did well despite being ill, i recieved a big trophy which sits in my living room, but i
felt i could have done better. I travelled there with my training buddy nico, who was training in
strongman and also competed at this event and did well, afer this i had national competitions as
a goal in my sights.

The months past and i grew stronger, ever more so dedicated, i had deisgned my own
powerlifing program, consuming a blend of superfoods for breakfast in a smoothie consisting of
maca powder, honey, peanut butter, oats, 1 bannana, 2 table spoons of coconut oil, and 2 scoops
of meal replacement - a breakfast drink of 1500+ calories. The training was split into phases of
specific adaption which seemed to be the most effective way to adapt, i had build my repetition
maxxes up beyond my maximum, i had more mass than i had ever had, i had a few months to
taper my adaptions down to a 1RM, which was going to be my new personal record.

At times i would split my trainnig sessions down throughout the day rather than in one session a
day to help adaptions, I planned to become the RAF powerlifing champion U23 at an RAF
powerlifing event in Dubai - which was to be my first real powerlifing event in the RAF, the
event i was certain i had, i could feel it - i was already capable of taking the first position in all
three lifs, but i wanted to wait. To wait, for the perfect time, the perfect time to engrain this
accomplishment for myself, it was the platform i had been building for myself, for what felt like
my whole lifes dedications - from being born premature, being told i would be phsyically behind
everyone, all the built up emotions from being unable to open up, all the research, all the
sacrifices i made for my training and diet from a young age, the people i knew and connections i
had - and the fire i had, seeming infinit in every session... Always pushing myeslf that little more,
always looking for ways to improve and adapt. The countless times i saw my body fail, feeling it
reach its limits as i move closer to my target.

I would envision myself before i went to sleep at nights, performing the exercises, watching
myself accomplish my record and goals, over and over, feeling it, as if it had already came a
reality.

Dynamite.

One day, out the blue - I recieved a phone call, something i never planned was about to happen,
something i never foresaw, something which unknowingly brought back all my past, in a cyclone
of confusion, in a cyclone where i was the eye obsering destruction all around... 'Im pregnant',
my girlfriend told me.

My words had been raped, i had been raped, my life had been raped, my purpose had been
raped, It had felt.

I never planned to have children, i remember talking to harriet before we got into a relationship,
and i told her i never wanted children, i told her i was too obsessed with my goals, and i had
never gave it the thought, to have children, at all. Infact it made me feel at unease even thinking
about having children, and i still do, so i completely avoided this aspect and focused on myself
growing up. I remember several times i told her i never wanted children as she would bring it up
from time to time, we wasnt together long...I remember she never used to like using condoms
for sex, which made me feel at unease. A few times i found pregnancy tests in her room, she
proclaimed it was an old habbit she picked up from her last relationship. She told me she was on
contraception. The night my son was concieved, she had lied to me.

I couldnt allow a child to be brought up fatherless, i felt compassion for everyone, i had to be
there for him, i had to be, maybe because i always wanted a close father figure in my life growing
up i felt like a hypocrite and my personal reasons lef me feeling heartless, i dont think i could
have lived with myself if i lef him, all my family would hate me, what would everyone think if i
abandoned my very own son even if i was decieved into the situation? They wouldn't
understand, they wouldnt see it from my perspective. And they diddn't, they made the situation
worse, blaming my reactions to this event as the issue of my suffering, making me feel even
more ashamed and outcast.

I was away at RAF Akrotiri, my first and only time overseas with the military. I can remember the
heat, and the sweat trickling down my face - as im staring into the mirror of the gym doing
deadlif afer deadlif, in my medium repetition phase of adaption, the gym floor shacking as the
weights were pounding the floor, my movements are fluid and focused, staring deep into my
eyes overfuelled with will, analysing every movement, every breath in accordance to my heart
rate, in accordance to the phase of movement, the depth of the breath in the perfect volume to
cause the perfect expansion for the perfect internal pressure, with minimal power leakages
observing the spread of the weight throughout my body and feeling my center of gravity as it
spread through my heels, as im pushing into the floor making perfect moment arms...

We went out as a flight and i compeleted a drinking game, i won a t-shirt at the akrotiri arms pub
- it was black with red embroidery, it diddnt fit me too well but i wore it proudly. Another day we
went to a water park where i got sun burnt in patches because i couldn't reach my back with the
suncream which made me laugh, another evening i remember contemplating my relationship
with harriet. I had split up with her before, we was always on and off - she was very abrupt and
extreme, intense and hard to handle at times - she had lost her temper and hit me a few times.

I was simple - i took much emotional manipulation and abuse from her, i should have lef sooner.

One time she proclaimed to me that she was travveling to my RAF camp without my permission -
in order to get me back as i had split up with her, again for the last time, again - hours later i
recieved a phone call from her saying she is lost in oxford and doesnt know where she is. I cant
leave her lost in oxford with no money, so i had to get her. I remember having her mum threaten
me if i upset her over the phone one time, saying she will come to the RAF camp.

I remember we got back afer i picked her up, but it diddnt feel right to me - she had emotionally
manipulated me into getting back into a relationship with her, but i went along with it. I had
compassion for her and diddnt want to see her suffer, i knew people changed, so i lef it to hope,
i diddnt want to see anyone suffer, i never did.

When i came back from RAF Akrotiri, i remember that night, i was with harriet. I asked her if she
was on contraception. She said yes, and i believed her every word.

I put the phone down afer hearing she was pregnant, part of me in disbelief, i felt in shock, but i
felt okay, i remember ringing my mum to tell her - at first she diddnt believe me.

Weeks past, and i was changing, something was changing, i diddnt know what but time is the
perfect author. I had to do night shifs in a split shif system during my posting at cargo in brize
norton - i wasnt too keen on the idea of night shifs as their negative effects on mind and body. It
was 2 days of 6AM to 6PM, with a 12 hour break between followed by 2 nights of 6PM to 6AM
with 4 days off. ( repeat )

I started struggling to sleep, it was confusing at first - but as more weeks passed it got worse and
worse. I went to the doctors in the RAF and they gave me sleeping tablets - which helped in the
short term, but i cant live on sleeping tablets all my life i thought to myself, they are addictive
with bad side effects and the doctors would only give me so many at a time, so i had to keep
going back regularly to get more sleeping tablets. I started to research sleep and Insomnia as it
got worse.

At this point it was greatly affecting my training, which really hurt me deep inside - i tried to
progress, as i was so close to my goal, i tried to carry on, i had so much will power, i was going to
do it, i was still going to complete my goals and become the RAF powerlifing champion, i was
going to succeed in my lifes goals and dedications.

I started to struggle to eat, and i noticed i was changing inside my mind, my mood was dropping,
my perspectives were changing, my weight dropped and i was sleeping even less, i remember at
times i would hallucinate from lack of sleep, trying to avoid thinking of the damage all this was
causing my body, my mind was slowly loosing its bearings. I felt something was slowly sucking
everything out of me, but i pushed on, in the gym, pushing my body like i used to, looking in the
mirror - fuelled with anger and a scattery sensation, a blurry feel in me, staring into the mirror..
Who am i, i thought to myself, struggling to lif a weight which would have been a warm up only
months ago - my body felt weak, i felt weak, i felt like i was dying. My fingers start to give way,
my grip quivers as I drop the barbell on the floor, the weights wobbling as am i, tears come
streaming down my eyes, my lip and jaw start twitching, i have to escape...I see myself in the
corner of my eye...In the reflection of the mirror, as i fled the scene.

This was the turning point for me, i knew i couldnt go on, i knew that was it, until i was better...It
broke me apart completely, piece by piece everything i had dedicated myself for, everything i
had worked for, was all crumbling before my very own eyes.

I was referred to the department of mental health, i was down graded and unable to change my
posting at RAF Brize Norton and was limited, i felt trapped and isolated. The psychiatrist wasnt
really helping, we were trying different depression tablets, and focusing on building myself up
again, while i was plunging into the darkest depression i can imagine. We started focusing on
insomnia, when i wanted to get to the roots and fix it so i could resume my goals, but diddnt
know how.

I had EEG sleep studies, having to wear sensors glued onto my head to check for my brain waves,
i tried various anti depressants, i tried different meditations, i tried exercise, i tried sleeping
tablets, i tried everything reccomended because i thought they knew better, but I started to buy
the sleeping tablets online, i got addicted to them, i remember the first time i ordered the
sleeping tablets they accidentaly sent me double my order.

It gave me some thinking space, being able to sleep and being out of the rut which was no doing
of my own - i tried to get back into my powerlifing training again, building my tolerance of the
tablets from 1 tablet to 4 or more, i cant really remember, with what started as weeks turned
into months, sometimes waking during the night and taking more so i could fall back to sleep,
only to realise what i was doing to myself in the greater picture to come spiraling out with
emotional blurts and sporatic thoughts anticipating suicide for my life and all my experiences, my
dedications and my self.

Times have been unbearably difficult, but theres always been a spec of hope - i remember
breaking down at work before i was downgraded, in tears, not myself, having conversations with
si, showing me how one can have true compassion to another with no selfish interest, he gave
me his hankerchief which i drown my tears in. He gave me a shoulder to cry on and has helped
me through some of the difficult times. I still have the hankerchief now, it reminds me of him
and makes me feel warm and gooey inside.

I remember going to the baby scan and feeling as if my life was over, i couldnt remove that
negative sheath from my mind that i had unknowingly adapted onto myself, harriet was excited
and happy, she complained to me that i seemed unhappy during the scan, and that i should have
enjoyed it and smiled and complained to others about it.

I got worse, i was lying in bed, body twitching with suicidal urges, i remember my arms
attempting to flail out as my legs were shivering in an attempt to kill myself, the urge so
powerful, so very powerful. I tried to resist, telling myself i am only observing this experience,
and that this is not my idendity, feeling my brain spasm, lost in a flurry of emotions, anxieties
and shadows...

This became a very common theme for the last years i spent in the RAF, the emotions
continously flooded my mind, guilt, fear about being not able to feel normal or function like i
used to around other people, guilt that i cant train for myself and loosing all my lifes work, anger
and resentment that i had been decieved, how can i ever trust another person again? i held onto
the one belief that suffering is a prelude to growth, telling myself i will be okay soon, this was the
only thing keeping me going.

I had to PVR, i needed to leave, i was desperate for change, i was lifeless, i was struggling to
exist, struggling to struggle. Fuelled with an envious fire, as i wanted to be training, i wanted to
be achieving, but i was broken.
I moved into my mums, struggling to sleep and still at rock bottom, i turned to cannabis as an aid
for my sleep, and it helped like magic. I was able to sleep much better, my mood improved, and i
was eating more, but i never felt much more than just existing to struggle in pain. I felt happy to
be able to sleep afer a joint, i felt happy to enjoy food, but i looked out of my eyes at my life and
saw suicide, which is strange beacuse at times i was overwhelmed with joy, and some mornings i
would burst into tears of joy, crying in extasy and compassion - telling myself im going to give
homeless people blankets, and food - which i followed up with, i always liked to help those in
need, and i always liked to help someone who needed it, i helped to build dam structures for a
local village to protect for a flood among many things, i guess its because i know what it feels like
to suffer when noone can listen.

The situation with harriet and robbie was evermore difficult, one time she told me i wasn't the
father to robbie, another time she wouldn't let me take him for a walk on my own to the park
when he was already sat in his push-chair strapped up near the front door, the first time that i
had him on my own properly afer asking countless times, he was 4, we was in the shop getting a
drink and snack, about to head to the park. He said 'daddy', to which i replied yes robbie?
looking at him with compassionate eyes, when he tells me 'I love you', It brought me instantly
into tears of joy and i felt so complete. Thinking about it still brings me to tears, as it is while im
typing this.

I was walking back from town to my mums when a guy in a white van stops, we started talking
and hes trying to sell me some speakers. He jumps out and opens the van, where he shows me
the paperwork which seemed official, and shows me the ebay page - and claims he has an over
shipment, and its not accounted for - we come to an agreed price and i brought the 'branded'
speakers from him for a fraction of the price that they were worth - only to realise they were not
brandad at all, and they were probably made in someones garage! I was vulnerable, and it
taught me to be more aware, even when im at my lowest - no matter what state im in, it taught
me that some people will make others suffer so they dont have to, and i looked deeply into it
and realsed how the system around us was set to produce people to act in bad ways even when
they are only trying to live themselves, they diddnt choose to be brought into this system as it is
currently, im sure if everyone was born anew, we would choose love and compassion, but most
dont see things the way i do.

Nature
I resumed smoking cannabis from then on for sleep, I tried to sleep without smoking several
times but every time i struggled to sleep without the use of it, which to me seemed like a small
sacrifice considering what i had been through, i just wanted a to have a break - but others
diddn't see it this way. I had a couple of months off work, which i spent trying to recouperate
myself, i was living off of the money i had saved up during my time in the military, i was having to
pay for a deception which flipped my life upside down of my own savings while i was
unemployed and at rock bottom.
My mum managed to speak to her friend about some work, which led to me starting work in the
security industry. The work wasnt too bad, but i was in a bad place. I was working night shifs as
a security gaurd, which really took its toll on me considering my previous issues with sleep - and
having to work night shifs gradually tore me away from this line of work, it was too much to
handle, afer everything i had been through and still was going through, i just wanted to feel
healthy, at the very least.

One of my first jobs was at a big old building called the lawn, which was apparently haunted. I
never really considered ghosts to be a reality but i was skeptical and open about anything - i
remember exploring the grounds at early hours in the morning for months, curiously checking
for intruders but at the same time keeping an eye out for a ghost that i may have met. I never
saw anything, no ghosts anyway.

One time i saw a fox - it was about 2 in the morning and i was patrolling the outisde of the
building as i saw two litle orbs in the distance. I shone my torch along the dark field which had
trees along the far sides which submerged into the background blocking all light from the city, as
i see the little fox scurrying towards me with its curiousity. I went back to my room and grabbed
my bag with my food in it, and basically had a little picnic with the fox who gradually grew
comfortable with me until he dissapeared back into the woods hidden within the city.

Afer this i moved onto mobile security, the work was more active as i was driving around
checking certain sites for intruders, and locking sites. I remember a big sense of guilt grew within
me, as one of the sites i had to cover was locking the college grounds - there were ofen
homeless people who tried to take shelter under the covers and door ways and as security, it
was my job to remove them.

Afer the first time i felt too guilty and it was playing on my mind, the second time it was raining
and i told the homeless to go once it stopped raining...Not long afer this i quit the job, it wasnt
me.

I had been studying an online ICT course while working night shifs in an attempt to get into a
better career, a career which would support me and not be unhealthy for my mind or body, as
night shifs were. I still felt messed up inside and felt like i needed a break, but i completed the
course, which lead me to working at a phone repair shop.

The work was good, i enjoyed fixing phones and helping peoples issues with technology, as i had
picked this up naturally being in the generation i was born in - but the pay was low - and the staff
were treated poorly, i was told i would recieved travel expenses and never did, and when i heard
them talking about me behind my back to a customer - i had decided these peoples values were
not right, and i diddnt want to work for them, it wasn't me.

I got back into security, as much as i diddnt want to - i was working night shifs on the outskirts
of the city, i remember this was a dark time for me. I was in a metal cabin where i would patrol
every hour up and down the site which was a small strip of land, it took maybe 2 minutes to do
the patrol. I felt myself becoming very neurotic, i was being pulled in a certain direction - i was
restless and my mind was racing. I hadnt felt the same since this experience started back from
when i was in the RAF and i recieved that phone call, i still felt broken - and it started to show.
Tears streaming down my face as i attempt to find a new purpose, visions of my old life come
striking in my mind as the emotions rain like thunder, suicidal urges, shivering and brain twitches
all come back to me, my eyes start twitching and my vision slips and i feel like im loosing myself..
I catch myself, and sit, tears streaming down my face as im glaring blankly into the security
camera, watching the cameras, watching the time, watching my life flicker before my mind, the
tears leaving pools below me - but im just sitting...Im just watching.

This went on for some time, i had days where i felt absolute compassion and was in tears, days
where i felt stuck, i felt anger, which at times was directed at the society i was brought up in,
capitalism - destroying and raping the earth, while everyone is sipping coca cola debating about
justin biebers hair while paying tribute to the royals. I analysed piece by piece, the web around
me.

I wasnt sure of my identity at this point, i felt like a formless fog, a passive zombie, living for the
compassion of others, struggling to eat, i was getting skinny - daunt in the face, and you could
see my ribs.

I was born small and skinny, i then went fat, i then became muscular, and then lost it all, ill
probably soon be fat again soon, i find it quite ironic!

I felt broken, and those around me may have wanted to help but everytime someone asked me if
i was okay, it was difficult to answer and everytime i opened up to someone, the wound was
released again - i was put back in the same space, like a pit within. I tried private psychiatrists, i
tried talking to loads of poeple but every time it seemed to only make things worse, my mum
and nan diddnt understand, they projected themselves onto me as i would try to express - not
properly listening and saying 'its the weed', 'its the drugs thats fucked me up', 'you dont
understand life', 'your the one that had the sex with her', 'its your fault', emotionally
manipulating me into their eyes and their model of happiness. I dont think they realised how
painful and deep this was for me, but they should have seen it in me, and should have been
more understanding and listened to me.

My father was the one who was the most understanding when i would open up to him, but it
was always hard to open up and unravel this, it gave me a sense of respect towards him because
he listened, and at times i started to feel proud that he was my father working with him, he
seemed wise, and aware and i saw traits in him which i liked. But i couldnt see a way out of my
situation - i couldnt leave my son, my seed. He was already here, i love him, and i couldnt return
to my old life, i was weak, broken, and all the emotions still haunted me and kept me
suppressed, kept me off my knees and kept me depressed.

I can remember it was my 24th birthday, i had been up most of the night and felt very neurotic
and depressed with my life, my mind was looping in emotional cycles of abuse i was giving
myself and attempting to see a lifes purpose now my life was completely derailed, when harriet
walks through carrying our son in his car seat. They must have walked through the door to the
living room when i realised that they were here. I wanted to be alone in my suffering, i wanted to
kill myself but couldn't. I felt huge surges of emotions as i walk through to go to the bathroom, i
see harriet look at me in disgust which flicks something in me... Words are said, but i see red.

Like being taken adrif a whirlwind, im flooded with visions of red - i see myself floating at a fast
pace straight to harriet like a rull chasing its target, fixated, enraged, on fire. I could not control
myself fully. I was moving so fast, so jittery, as i grab her, im sat on top of her...

'I really want to hurt you', I said in a suppressed rage, trying to hardest to resist unleashing all my
pent up anger which was looking directly into her eyes, down into her soul. Afer realising what
had happened, i released my grip off her sides, i tried to turn it into a joke by saying do you want
a kiss, giving her a nervous smile, while still on top of her with my son in his babychair near us,
hopefully he diddn't see anything and was too young to remember. I instantly felt regret for
loosing myself, but i couldnt help it at the time, i was blind in a field of red stuck in past
emotions, but at least i controlled it...To some degree.

I needed a break, and i wanted to go to Amsterdam. Me and a few friends had planned to go
several times before this but they had let me down so I decided to go on my own, a solo holiday
would probably do me some good anyway, i had planned to visit the museums, cafes and
explore the area.

I arrived at the airport for my departure, 10 minutes behind my check in time. Having to pay for
another outbound flight ticket or go home, i purchase another ticket, eventually i boarded the
plane afer eating an overpriced burger and coffee. I can remember the excitement as i was
about to leave the country as i observed myself curiously sitting in anticipation. I slept in a hostel
for the 2 nights, the hostel was great, it had a smoking room downstairs and i met some cool
people and explored the areas with them. I surprised myself at how at ease i was in an
environment completely alien to me, by myself, i felt more alive, it felt good to get away.

There was an area in the woods near where i lived, i would go and sit and meditate, it is out the
way of everything going in the city and in my hectic life. One time here glaring at a tree, i had a
realisation and understanding that the formations of nature, the branches, its growth, and the
formations of myself are interconnected. I researched into various industries in the world,
Shamanism, Esoteric studies, and and the works of Carl Jung. I was curious with what was going
on in the world, with what was REALLY going on, down to the atom.

From the age of 13 i have trained aspect of myself, beating myself and struggling through the
pain to seek the growth which helped to bear the struggle. I believe everything happens for a
reason, we all stem from one, its the words and experiences that differ, we all feel the same
feels. Our words become our beliefs.

The last attempt i had at deadlif training, i was depressed, clutching at straws and attempting to
maintain my bodily adaptions somewhat, i was gripping the bar, using straps now as my grip was
unable to hold the 180KG. I used to use this for speed reps and as a warm up a few years ago, i
was feeling exhausted, feeling weak. I grew frustrated with my performance, there was no mirror
facing me, i couldn't see my movements as im lifing the bar up in anger slamming it back down
again, trying to build up speed - everything starts getting intense and i feel tears building in the
corner of my eyes, little droplets start forming, my eye makes a few twitches. I start feeling
overwhelmed as im lifing the weights, im struggling.

What?! Im struggling? With this? I push harder, i can feel my form slipping but i dont care as im
engulfed in a passionate rage of redemption.

I drop the weight and it comes flailing down slamming on the ground, im staring coldy into the
emptyness of the gym, suffocated in feelings of submissive defeat, regret and repressed
emotions, i had felt something give in my back.

Holy grail
My dad managed to get me a job which was working during the day with him doing scaffolding,
the light at the end of the tunnel, or a step in the right direction or so i thought. I remember
working the night shifs at the same time as scaffolding for the first two weeks - my body had
been adapted to night shifs, i hadnt seen the sun for what seemed like eternity. I was struggling
to eat at the time - on the first day i couldnt eat at all doing scaffolding work, its a physical job
and the sun was beaming, i hadnt slept at all, and sweat was pouring from my body as i
struggled on and my mind felt broken. I remember ringing my dad in tears that morning as i had
been up all night with anxiety and emotions, flashbacks, saying to him i dont think im going to be
able to make it, my past flashing back to me, the difficulties of sleeping as my body was getting
weaker as my powerlifing goals were slipping before my very own eyes.

It seemed to pop up in my awareness, lef right and centre. I have had many synchronicities in
the past before with certain things, it was popping up all over, and one day at work a colleuge
says he thinks he can help me. I allowed him to roam free in my mind for a time, directing my
awareness with his curiousity, which really took its toll on me. I had a break down not long afer,
and it put me in a direction inwards, as i realised my roots were weak. I thought that they were
strong, i thought that i was strong, but i could never be strong if my roots were weak. I dont
think he realises in the way in which he helped me, but everyone and everything has helped to
some degree. I started looking inwards more, at first i could hardly remember my past and
struggled to make clear memories, it was pitch black, the pain and suffering still was present and
overwhelming for me, i still felt stuck, but i was numb, my individual life only bothered me when
i focused my awareness on it.

My back had been hurting since i did my last deadlif session, i had seen a private
physiotherapist who said i may have had a minor disk bulge, he gave me remedial exercises with
hope the pain would subside. My lower back felt tight constantly, and my upper back / neck had
a compressed stabbing pain, all of which i tried to ignore and constantly gave me pain, i was
listening to people around me saying my body will get used to it, and that its because scaffolding
is hard work. My body seemed to be breaking it was getting worse, i felt like i was having to work
a life i never wanted to live, while constantly in pain, possibly making my back even worse, while
breathing in construction dust particles - scratching my lungs causing permenant damage and
eventual cancer, i felt i was contributing via tax to a capitalist system which had raped the earths
resources for the benefit of a small percent of the population who seemed to be sat in gold
chairs eating buffets, while others are starving.

The love for robbie was there for me, i had the parental instincts to love him and i want the best
for him, i want him to have a father figure like i never had, i want to guide him in the right
direction. But i feel like the life im living has been decieved into, i have been verbally raped into
this situation, at times i feel i should still be in the RAF claiming the RAF champion title, and
progressing towards national competitons surrounded by my training friends, to set records and
become a powerlifing coach but i find myself ofen struggling with perceptions, flooding me into
a pools of stationary observational suicide.

My person struggles to find purpose beyond self, the struggle is between emotions, between
what drives the vehicle, it feels like i am existing to support a life and environment / society
which is destructive and manipulated, and one that i never wanted to be in, but i hate to admit it
because i cant stop it, I never envisioined this life, i envisioned my bed to be a temple, i adapted
myself accordingly, i put the sacrifice in and more over, but this is a life which i wake up in every
day, born by deciet, every outward movement can be a flash back of the suicidal depths of
neurotic thoughts, twitching like a withering fragment with no roots, in an abyss, with tears
engraining pathways down my face once again, formless.

But who i am?

If im capable of creating my own hell, im sure enough capable of creating my own heaven.