Brazilian_Blues_Boy
Master Don Juan
I know this is a very cliche theme, cliche'd metaphors and at the most convenient time to use all those credit card advertisments must-haves... but, besides all the same old story I may eventually present here, it's my truly heart-felt word...
I wish every day was like an Olympic Game. Honestly.
I wish that every morning after I woke up, life, fate, destiny, circumstances and all these mistical associations would write their veredict and make me go through a trial, to prove myself worthy of being alive.
Like Sisyphus, I would roll the boulders all the way up day after day, always keeping hope and trying my best to excel, to break myself of this punishment, of this so called god that most of us know as fear...
Failures are what makes us strong. I've lost many goals, heck, I managed to kick the ball over the goal when I had it entirely for me...
I played wrong notes , I sang out of tune... I f*cking chickened out lots of times, sometimes totally, sometimes 4 inches from a girl I wanted bad...
And who didn't? Who hasn't ever stumbled on his feet, did the unexpected, let other people pass ahead you when YOU were the best??
How bad it feels, when you lay down on the ground, with your back against the solid world, and you know that you've failed? You're the only responsible for not getting what you want. Is there any feeling worst than impotency? Specially when it comes bounded with regret?
But, as you lay there on the ground, the sweat spills all over your face, and suddenly one special sunbeam reminds you that it is not over. You have to fight, you have to overcome all that has put you down and claim your prize.
With the strength of a giant, you stand up, you shake the dust off of yourself and wipe the sweat out of your face.
After a deep breath, you wonder for a second, and, the bitter image of defeat comes to you , and now, now you know what to do.
Now you know where you were wrong, and you start find out why, when, where and how much you have to go right.
It's a tough fight, it's fighting with yourself, with the clock, taking on the world alone.
Sometimes seconds count. For a world record, or for the right momentum to approach that girl. Or to stay quiet.
After it's lost its place in the mind, fear runs to the body... makes you feel tired, muscle pains, loose your breath and the f*cker makes you shiver and shake...
But still, you keep on fighting...to exceed , to succeed , to excel.
You run alone, you know nobody will do anything for you except trying put you down and make you feel old.
Battles are won by those with the courage, with guts, with the insanity to go against the common thought and the common norm, by those who dare to face the status quo and make things their way.
So, brothers, raise your hands, hit your chest and feel that inside you lies a fountain of energy capable of making miracles. Miracles that should be routines.
There's no Zeus, there's no fear, there's no boulder, there's only you. Faith in yourself can give you wings and hard work will make them unmeltable, so flap them and fly high onto the sun.
Apollo is an archetype, but, as with all archetypes, he lives inside us.
You can make time, you can reach the final stretch, make the goal, the point, get the job, get the grade, get the girl, make the dream come true, the power lies within you.
The only thing stopping you from winning is yourself; fortune favors the bold, and opportunity favors the prepared mind, but few are brave enough to leave the world and most of the times the sanity, the common sense, the status quo behind and make themselves gods.
So rise my friends, rise, live your lives like new-born gods ascending to the Olympus. There's no impossible feat for those who are insane enough and persistent enough to try until end.
Do it. Do it now. Do it tomorrow. And the day after. And day after day until the day you die.
A life of freedom, a life of happiness,
that my friends,
that,
That will be your golden medal.
BBB
I wish every day was like an Olympic Game. Honestly.
I wish that every morning after I woke up, life, fate, destiny, circumstances and all these mistical associations would write their veredict and make me go through a trial, to prove myself worthy of being alive.
Like Sisyphus, I would roll the boulders all the way up day after day, always keeping hope and trying my best to excel, to break myself of this punishment, of this so called god that most of us know as fear...
Failures are what makes us strong. I've lost many goals, heck, I managed to kick the ball over the goal when I had it entirely for me...
I played wrong notes , I sang out of tune... I f*cking chickened out lots of times, sometimes totally, sometimes 4 inches from a girl I wanted bad...
And who didn't? Who hasn't ever stumbled on his feet, did the unexpected, let other people pass ahead you when YOU were the best??
How bad it feels, when you lay down on the ground, with your back against the solid world, and you know that you've failed? You're the only responsible for not getting what you want. Is there any feeling worst than impotency? Specially when it comes bounded with regret?
But, as you lay there on the ground, the sweat spills all over your face, and suddenly one special sunbeam reminds you that it is not over. You have to fight, you have to overcome all that has put you down and claim your prize.
With the strength of a giant, you stand up, you shake the dust off of yourself and wipe the sweat out of your face.
After a deep breath, you wonder for a second, and, the bitter image of defeat comes to you , and now, now you know what to do.
Now you know where you were wrong, and you start find out why, when, where and how much you have to go right.
It's a tough fight, it's fighting with yourself, with the clock, taking on the world alone.
Sometimes seconds count. For a world record, or for the right momentum to approach that girl. Or to stay quiet.
After it's lost its place in the mind, fear runs to the body... makes you feel tired, muscle pains, loose your breath and the f*cker makes you shiver and shake...
But still, you keep on fighting...to exceed , to succeed , to excel.
You run alone, you know nobody will do anything for you except trying put you down and make you feel old.
Battles are won by those with the courage, with guts, with the insanity to go against the common thought and the common norm, by those who dare to face the status quo and make things their way.
So, brothers, raise your hands, hit your chest and feel that inside you lies a fountain of energy capable of making miracles. Miracles that should be routines.
There's no Zeus, there's no fear, there's no boulder, there's only you. Faith in yourself can give you wings and hard work will make them unmeltable, so flap them and fly high onto the sun.
Apollo is an archetype, but, as with all archetypes, he lives inside us.
You can make time, you can reach the final stretch, make the goal, the point, get the job, get the grade, get the girl, make the dream come true, the power lies within you.
The only thing stopping you from winning is yourself; fortune favors the bold, and opportunity favors the prepared mind, but few are brave enough to leave the world and most of the times the sanity, the common sense, the status quo behind and make themselves gods.
So rise my friends, rise, live your lives like new-born gods ascending to the Olympus. There's no impossible feat for those who are insane enough and persistent enough to try until end.
Do it. Do it now. Do it tomorrow. And the day after. And day after day until the day you die.
A life of freedom, a life of happiness,
that my friends,
that,
That will be your golden medal.
BBB
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