Fuckism: Falling is inevitable. Quitting is a goddamn choice. You’re gonna eat shit.Not once. Not twice. On repeat.Face first into the dirt—ego cracked, pride bruised, hope limping behind. You think that means you’re broken?Nah. That means you’re in motion.Because statues don’t fall. They just sit there. Frozen. Pointless. Safe. But you? You moved. You dared. […]
Fuckism: They may have fucked you up—but it’s your job to unfuck yourself. Yeah, your childhood was a shitshow.Dad was absent.Mom was controlling.Or maybe they both meant well and still screwed it all up anyway. Guess what?That’s called being human.And yeah, it leaves scars.But if you’re still blaming them in your 30s,Still letting their dysfunction
Fuckism: The mountain looks huge—until you realize you built the damn thing. Standing there, paralyzed.Looking up at this beast of a mountain.Overwhelmed. Intimidated.Convinced it’s too much, too high, too hard. But here’s the twist, kid:That mountain?It’s yours. Not yours like belonging to you.Yours like you built that bitch.Brick by brick—Every doubt.Every excuse.Every story you told
It’s Smaller Than You Think Read More »
Fuckism: Life’s slap doesn’t always come dressed in tragedy—sometimes it shows up as heartbreak, herpes, or a stubbed-ass toe. Either way, it’s a wake-up call, not a curse. You think the universe is punishing you?Nah, motherfucker—it’s ringing the bell.And it’ll use whatever it has to: That’s not pain. That’s a prompt.A rude-ass, no-warning “get your
Hello, Is It Me You Are Looking For? Read More »
Fuckism: Not everyone speaks the same language—some need a whisper, some need a thank you, and some need a fucking black eye made of words. You want to communicate?Learn the terrain.Because not everyone responds to soft talk and polite tone. Some people?You speak gently—they listen.Others?You gotta gut-punch them with facts just to get their brain
Fuckism: The pain of pushing through is temporary. The regret of quitting? That shit haunts. Pick your suffering—one builds, the other buries. Quitting feels good for five minutes.Relief. Escape. Silence.But then the silence gets louder.And what you could’ve been starts whispering like a ghost you can’t block. Quitting don’t hurt now—it hurts later.And it doesn’t
Anti-Quote: Feeling sad? Drown it in booze. Angry? Snap at someone who loves you. Work got hard? Lie, cheat, and steal your way out.Nothing like cruising through life with a fucked-up haze smeared across your soul. Why fix it when you can numb it, right?Why grow when you can ruin every relationship you touch?Why face
Fuckism: You didn’t get fat from one cake, broken from one thought, or addicted from one hit.It took commitment to fuck yourself up—so guess what? It’ll take commitment to fix it You want to blame the one moment?The one bite?The one bad day? Nah, motherfucker. That was just the spark.The fire came from all the
One Step At A Time, Backwards Read More »
Fuckism: “Growth don’t feel good—and if it does, you’re doing it wrong. That pressure in your chest? That’s your old self begging not to die Everyone wants to “level up” until the pain hits.Until the lonely kicks in.Until the shit that used to feel good starts feeling fake as hell. That ache in your gut?That
Fuckism: You can’t heal in the same mindset that made you sick.So stop lighting candles in the cage—and burn the whole fucking thing down You want growth?But you’re still thinking the same, moving the same, surrounding yourself with the same soft bullshit that broke you. You can’t evolve in comfort.You can’t ascend in denial.And you
