More than 15 years of being a Bboy.

Three to four times of practice a week, that's more than 12 hours.

Injuries galore.

Frustration as you lose progress for seemingly no reason.

Blood, sweat and fucking tears.

Wrote everyday on Steemit for a few months and earned a few cents a post.

Wondered where was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Felt confused as fuck as other users make so much money with fewer votes than you.

Finally broke through when I made friends with the right people.

But not once, while writing, I thought, "Today is going to be breakthrough day!!" 

I just did the work without thinking.

Love partying, getting drunk and meeting hot babes.

Yeah I get girls. I know how to talk to them.

Everyone thinks I am a douchebag, not willing to settle down as I chase skirts.

But they never saw the time I cried alone in my room when my ex disappeared on me.

Or the times when some girls I dated treated me like absolute dog shit as they walked all over me.

It's truly taken out of a drama, to see a beautiful girl you love treat you like crap.

Some friends think I am nuts as I am not planning for my future as much as they are.

I still travel. I still party. I still spend on cool shit to make myself happy.

No planning for houses, marriage or a stable job to hold on to.

But none of you were there the day my dad died and how it impacted me.

See someone you grow up with get taken away like that. You'll never be the same again.

I've made a fuck ton of progress with my anger issues. Dare I say, I am happy with myself today with what I have.

People may say I am lucky and got a good head on my shoulders from good upbringing.

But nobody saw the times I was so angry at home I destroyed a bunch of shit.

And I only always go for therapy sessions alone.

So much confusion within. So much discomfort to confront the darkness.

You see the glory, but you don't know the story.

The story may be a lonely one since you're the sole writer.

But it's okay.

Trudge on.

The glory awaits.