Fuckism: Pressure makes diamonds or dust. Two choices. You’ll have plenty of time to be dust when you’re dead—so while you’re here, be the fucking diamond.
Life doesn’t hand out greatness—it applies pressure. Real, relentless pressure. The kind that exposes your cracks or forges your strength. That pressure will either crumble you into dust, leaving you scattered and forgotten… or refine you into a diamond—tough, unbreakable, and unmissable.
The choice isn’t whether the pressure comes—it will. The choice is what you become under it.
And the truth is, we’ll all turn to dust eventually. That’s guaranteed. But right now—while you’re still breathing, still building—you have a shot to be something solid. Something that shines.
So stop folding, stop waiting for the weight to disappear, and start embracing it. Because diamonds aren’t born in comfort. They’re born in the grind, under heat, under pressure—just like you.
Be the fucking diamond. and SHINE
