Squeeze the juice off your tongue but don’t clog my mouth. Cautious but no less ferocious, I’m fucking dangerous. I want to blow your mind up then slice it into pieces with a hacksaw. Muscles; push ups, sit ups, squats, sets, reps, hours rest on a sore muscle group. Chest, triceps, shoulders, seconds in between exercises. Full strength focused on technique, intimidation total training, shadow boxing, stamina, skill developing, jab, jab, cross. Do, die, or ride up the steep hills of a crumbling world that fails. Welcome to a world where it’s seldom cold. Welcome to where the woods are dark if you cross the line. Where towns made of paper leaves dance with the devil; this isn’t Kemetic, so silently consume your tears and watch the shocked street’s broken lights like a liar.
Here some swear without words, others murder without moving but no one can harm you unless you’re unprepared; unless you smell scared; unless you doubt yourself; unless you play a bad hand in a deadly game. In a strenuous war where weakness equals dying, are you going to watch yourself hurt? A black eye must throw crosses, one, one two at chins. Breathe in, there is my elbow in your solar plexus, so insert your index finger inside my carotid artery until we both die. Do you realise the pressure put onto fighters by a crowd’s assumption that courage always wants to fight? Some might not want to, they might not like blood or the fear of getting hit, and that in street fights, it means to get hit hard. A dog world for a cat is called a crude madness. Scared to be forgotten or not needed like little babies, cats cry their insecurities out but that said, don’t call them underdogs. For as I speak, compassion, sensitivity and empathy are still human qualities.
Defensiveness betrays weakness. To defend your life, learn easy knockout strategies: one punch through the nose, right through the face and one kick through the skull to break it open. Sure, if you don’t fight back, the worst can happen, so instead of waiting for justice, make your own, drop hope and take control. But when someone is already dead, when something is slowly dying, there is no need to attack. Stop and realise that the fight is already won. In the jungle we live in, you leave your guard down for one second and before long someone tries to cowardly stomp on you from behind and without remorse. And some would even backstab you then jump on your backbone to breaking point. The smart see your strength but the weak minded only the surface of you. So if you look spineless, mistakened or fainting from fatigue, at the first slip they’ll slap you, then they’ll end you to confirm to themselves and the rest of the world how internally empty they really are.
Is being courageous an instinctive skill? If you don’t have the firepower to hold somebody off, your skill and technique won’t matter; you’ll get bum rushed and crushed. And watch out, for small sizes hit harder than many like to think. Appearing harmless, some old souls seem young, thus, watch out for such perfected acts of persuasion are dangerous. Your conviction, attitude, mindset and persistence are primary, your skill and technique are secondary. Skill without pressure, skill without power, skill without the love of fighting, of blood, of sweat, won’t matter. Unless you love fighting, a time will come when your skill and technique will be trumped by an opponent’s pressure and determination to break your willpower. Well dressed to kill at will or to will to hit, in the present moment, every predatory savage does their best with the tools they’ve been given to let their inner assassin’s beast out; in hard punching bags, in combat, in controlled but self consuming rage. And depression; a repressed angry passion that wants to come out. That said, once said, the mean words can’t be retracted, anyway. Why should we regret what the heart meant? Wouldn’t pretending that we didn’t mean to hurt be insincere? Why take the time to chit chat while others take too long to die? If we prepare for the worst, will it come? If we prepare for it to come, will it be worst? Like violent minds, self protection is worth studying. What makes one a cold blooded killer? Dying, a part of life like any other, death has nothing to fear, it has everything to prepare for. It’s not fear you want to get rid of, it’s indignation you want to grow. It’s practicality you want to embrace: grasp wrestling, kickboxing, boxing and basic karate moves. Martial arts have some of the most devastating techniques such as generating enough amount of energetic power to break thirteen slabs of ice or nine boards with one finger. There you go! Toughen up! Get used to a certain pain, a certain trauma in your hands.
For self protection in life or death situations, your goal is one punch. You want one time to be devastating enough to stop that threat. This technique is about attacking with such conviction that you disregard what may be coming back by going all out with every single thing you throw to render a threat helpless and make the person in front of you incapable of mounting a defense or an offense. The only way to get more than three punches on somebody is if the person lacks the bravery to ward you off. So decide what you want to do, control your ego and keep it simple. Simple techniques are still around because they work. The representative of a style of value and relevance is the beginner: cut the learning curve, cut the fat, stick with the basics, that’s where it’s at. There is your million dollar baby tip. Throw off course straight punches, straight shots not curved shots or they’ll be coming back to rip your head off.
In a world unfit for the weak, are those who fight the most scared? As soon as I lay eyes on you I pretty much have your whole book read. After observing for five minutes I know if you have the heart, not if you are going to win but if you have the heart to try to win. Like an underground bare knuckle match where an amateur ninja’s eye was extracted by an intelligent cannibal, slaughtered by a monster. Since the one eyed man‘s heart has darkened into an unconscious beast that walks among us. Everyone is love until the animal comes, until the beast is freed to lash out. All born angels, for a trip through this cruel life, where many die a devil. Edging closer to the end of their life, when coming closer to death, the main reason for people’s regret is not to have had the discipline to follow through with the talents and wishes that they once wished to conquer. Now use your abilities, get the best from your mind. Develop a self defense slayer instinct, enter the invisible parts of yourself and ponder on… what’s your primary driver in life?
Out of the necessity to avoid getting beat up on a daily basis by a self induced psychosis analysis hypnosis; know thyself (if ever you can) and know your opponent; you thought you’ve discovered everything! Well wait, you’ll see, there will always be another imbecile ready to join your party. Having belief in oneself, the confidence to not let it slip, to not be knocked down because we weren’t mentally tough enough. All the skills in the world aren’t everything. If you don’t have a strong mindset, how can you climb the highest mountains? Slowly building, each and everyday. Pushing beyond barriers, pushing past what’s uncomfortable. Negative self talk and low self confidence, those things will ruin you. So first and foremost believe… you can achieve it. Dig deep, like a love warrior fighting peacefully to restore peace, in your soul there is more than hatred.