Being a Freak

Yes, I am a freak. I am proud to be a freak. I want to to be a freak. Every bit of my soul wants to be a bigger, stronger freak. Did i imagine myself being one before i did my first lift? No. So what was it that made me want to become this 'thing'?

Addiction.

In so many ways, it is addiction that fuels my sanity to drive my physique to insanity. I am addicted to the pump i feel each time i lift. I am addicted to the tearing, aching pain. I am addicted to the rush and adrenaline from my heart pounding so hard as if it was going to go into cardiac arrest. I am addicted to the animal inside of me that tears through my sane self each and every time i go ballistic with crazy heavy weights. I am addicted to staring at myself in the mirror, looking like a savage beast, hungry for more kills...

This is unlike any other addiction. Not everyone can contain this addiction or pull through it. It's not as easy as getting into it and staying hooked because the high does not come without pain, immediate and sometimes impossible pain. There are many times when i had to wage war with myself, to suppress the relentless begging for freedom from the demons of pain. But why do i still do it? Why put myself through the test of steel? Because time and time again, i am reborn after each grueling battle, emerging a freak that has torn through the weak, mortal flesh. Because i come out different, forged from steel, from the anatomic foundry, putting yuppies to shame at the mere presence of me.

So, please move the fuck out of my way while i pass and leave you standing puny in my shadow.

-Zeus