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Outside of the endless sea of the mediocre, faceless nobodies, there are only two different types of motherfuckers in the world. People who start shit and think they are tough. And people who have trained and KNOW they are strong.
You see this shit every day. On the street, in bars, in workplaces... The "tough-guy" pretenders. They talk loud, they wear flashy clothing and jewelry, they drive souped-up cars. All this flashy garbage that is supposed to say "Don't fuck with me."
They walk with a swagger. They stomp and strut with a mean face on. They hang out with their equally-obnoxious friends. They are SO QUICK to start shit. SO QUICK to try to prove how fucking tough they are. They say things like "Yeah, motherfucker, keep walking, pussy! I'll fuck you up, bitch!" and so on and so forth.
They may go to the gym, even YOUR gym... But they don't train. They just go to do a few curls and bench presses and try to be intimidating to other people. They only do exercises that won't compromise their carefully-manicured image of toughness.
Then there are the people who DO train. Who earned their respect and their scars through months and years of training. Who have poured out gallons of sweat and oozed their blood on the mats and canvas floors. This is a completely different animal.
They are calm and relaxed. They walk with an ease of intention. They rarely look irritated or angry in public for no reason. They wear whatever they feel like wearing, whatever is comfortable.
Why?
Because they don't need a flashy car, or clothes or jewelry. They don't need to stand around places and try to intimidate others. They don't need a crew of their friends to parrot everything they say and "back them up". Because underneath the calm demeanor you can see, there is a terrifying power ready to be unleashed at a moment's notice....
... It is the calm coiled power of 1,000,000 punches thrown in practice against a bag or another person. The speed and force of 500,000 kicks, each of them improving on the one before it. The thunderous impact of the 250,000 knees and elbows smashed into the target with murderous intent.
It all screams one thing impossibly louder than all of the fake posturing and shit-talking of the phony-tough...
...It screams "I could kill you".
