I didn't wake up to be fucking average.
I woke up to fight, to rise, to build a life that can't be measured by anyone else's standards. I was shaped by pressure, carved by pain, and tempered by every failure I refused to bow to. My strength isn't just in muscle - it's in the silence I endured, the storms I walked through, and the way I rose each time the world tried to bury me. I don't chase perfection; I become it, piece by piece, moment by moment. I carry a fire that doesn't fade, even when no one's watching. My worth isn't measured by applause or titles - it's written in the way I stand, unbroken. Because in my world, average is death, and I was born to live never below greatness.
These are my thoughts - unfiltered, untamed, and born from the battles I've fought within myself. The kind of thoughts that come from nights I couldn't sleep and mornings I refused to quit. They're not meant to impress, only to remind: I'm still here, still standing, still becoming.