Post up pics, quotes, videos, hell, anything that you think will help motivate people into ...
Post up pics, quotes, videos, hell, anything that you think will help motivate people into getting off the PC and out running/gym/eating right...
Davis a beast!!!
|02-10-2010, 06:30 PM||away - #2|
|02-10-2010, 07:00 PM||online - #3|
[code]I Know You
I know you
you were too short
you had bad skin
you couldn't talk to them very well
words didn't seem to work
they lied when they came out of your mouth
you tried so hard to understand them
you wanted to be part of what was happening
you saw them having fun
and it seemed like such a mystery
made you think that there was something wrong with you
you'd look in the mirror trying to find it
you thought that you were ugly
and that everyone was looking at you
so you learned to be invisible
to look down
to avoid conversation
ah the weekend nights, alone
where were you
in the basement?
in the attic?
in your room?
working some job?
just to have something to do
just to have a place to put yourself
just to have a way to get away from them
a chance to get away from the ones that made you feel so strange and ill-at-ease inside yourself
did you ever get invited to one of their parties
you sat and wondered if you would go or not
for hours you imagined the scenarios that might transpire
they would laugh at you
if you would know what to do
if you would have the right things on
if they would notice that you came from a different planet
did you get all brave in your thoughts
like you were going to be able to go in there and deal with it
and have a great time
did you think that you might be 'the life of the party'
that all these people were gonna talk to you
and you would find out that you were wrong
that you had a lot of friends
and you weren't so strange after all?
did you end up going
did they mess with you
did they single you out
did you find out that you were invited
because they thought you were so weird
yeah, I think I know you
you spent a lot of time full of hate
a hate that was pure as sunshine
a hate that saw for miles
a hate that kept you up at night
a hate that filled your every waking moment
a hate that carried you for a long time
yes I think I know you
you couldn't figure out what they saw and the way they lived
home was not home
your room was home
a corner was home
the place they weren't- that was home
I know you
and you hide it, because you fear getting stepped on one more time
it seems that when you show a part of yourself that is the least bit vulnerable
someone takes advantage of you
one of them steps on you
they mistake kindness for weakness
but you know the difference
you've been the brunt of their weakness for years
and strength is something you know a bit about
because you had to be strong to keep yourself alive
you know yourself very well now
and you don't trust people
you know them too well
you try to find that 'special person'
someone you can be with
someone you can touch
someone you can talk to
someone you won't feel so strange around
and you found that they don't really exist
you feel closer to people on movie screens
yeah, I think I know you
you spend a lot of time daydreaming
and people have made comment to that effect
telling you that you're 'self-involved' and 'self-centered'
but they don't know, do they
about the long nightshifts alone
about the years of keeping yourself company
all the nights you wrapped your arms around yourself
so you could imagine someone holding you
the hours of indecision
the intense depression
the blinding hate
the rage that made you stagger
the devastation of rejection
maybe they do know
but if they do
they sure do a good job of hiding it
it astounds you how they can be so smooth
how they seem to pa## through life as if life itself was some divine gift
and it infuriates you to watch yourself with your apparent skill,
and finding every way possible to screw it up
for you, life is a long trip
terrifying and wonderful
birds sing to you at night
the rain and the sun
the changing seasons
are true friends
solitude is a hard won ally
faithful and patient
yeah, I think I know you[/code]
|02-10-2010, 07:56 PM||away - #4|
We have too many motivation threads, lol. But real talk. I thought the Chechnyan dude from Rock N Rolla was !!in ripped. I don't have the dedication for that tho.
|02-10-2010, 08:26 PM||away - #5|
|02-10-2010, 08:35 PM||away - #6|
|02-10-2010, 08:45 PM||away - #7|
|02-10-2010, 08:48 PM||away - #8|
|02-10-2010, 08:54 PM||away - #9|
Last edited by Lucifer; 02-10-2010 at 08:58 PM..
|02-10-2010, 09:13 PM||away - #10|
|02-10-2010, 10:06 PM||online - #11|
|02-10-2010, 10:21 PM||away - #12|
|02-10-2010, 10:27 PM||online - #13|
Henry Rollins Quotes
“Scar tissue is stronger than regular tissue. Realize the strength, move on.”
“Don't do anything by half. If you love someone, love them with all your soul. When you go to work, work your a## off. When you hate someone, hate them until it hurts.”
"Keep your blood clean, your body lean, and your mind sharp."
|02-10-2010, 10:28 PM||online - #14|
Iron by Henry Rollins
I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely. When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well.
I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy. I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between cla##es. Years pa##ed and I learned to keep it all inside.
I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either.
Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his cla##. Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring.
On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly. Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we wouldknow that we were getting somewhere.
At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my cla##es. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks pa##ed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks pa##ed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it.
Right before Christmas break I was walking to cla##, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away.
You couldn't say !! to me. It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I havelearned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I waswrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble.
That which you work against will always work against you. It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout. I used to f!ght the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego.
I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control. I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt pa##es itself off as self- respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman.
Muscle ma## does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart. Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming pa##ion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron.
Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that se# was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness.
To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads. I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a ma##ive stroke. They need the Iron Mind.
Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to f!ght weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back.
The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds. " -Henry Rollins
|02-10-2010, 11:41 PM||away - #15|
|02-10-2010, 11:41 PM||away - #16|
^^^im not even a fan of NFL but that ad always inspires me
|02-11-2010, 10:06 AM||away - #17|
Last edited by Lucifer; 02-11-2010 at 11:15 AM..
|02-11-2010, 10:33 AM||away - #18|
All you gotta do it post the youtube link.
|02-11-2010, 02:28 PM||away - #19|
|02-11-2010, 02:50 PM||online - #20|
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