Picasso said there are two types of women, goddesses and doormats. He was wrong. There are three. The third is the Warrior. This is the story of my death and how I came back to life. A love story.
Miracles do happen.
Thoughts become things.
Time takes time & time is distance.
Love is everything.
Left knee, right foot.
A warrior must understand the battlefield. There are leaders, there are followers, and there are cowards that will survive due to being at the right place at the right time with the right people. There are idiots and geniuses and life is not fair. A warrior fights for their light in the dark when it appears to have been blown out. A warrior lets pain in and develops their weapon from it. A warrior will always be on the outside because their strength is unparalleled and with this strength comes a duty. A warrior must know both when to cut the weak and when to save them. Patience, tactic, clarity of victory, and most of all deep love are traits that create a warrior.
Life is a constant act of breaking up with yourself, it’s important to let go. To become a warrior, you will have to break up with yourself, your ego, and kill the old you.