Thank you thank you thank you. (I’m sorry for breaking your finger, Javs) It’s been a long road of forms, sparring, wrestling and so on. Has it come to an end? The long hours of training often felt laden with monotony and pain. It’s followed to this day. I thank my Shifus for spoiling me with honesty, and using the truth as a weapon that has sharpen me like a blade. This process has challenged me beyond measure. It taught me to see the charming notion of the human condition as well as the dark enigma. I study martial arts to be humbled....truthfully...the world is humbling. I thank my parents for supporting me from the beginning. But for pushing my body and mind, endearing the intense and sometimes brutal methods of training, I think it’s right for me to thank myself. The sessions beget my tolerance for the rigid reality. I’d also like to add that the color I wear around my waist doesn’t signify me or my skill. My belt doesn’t make me superior in any shape or form. From my interpretation, it’s a symbol of time, and a symbol of the literal blood, sweat and tears that has been shed and shared through myself as well as my fellow disciples. It is a relic of a raw, honest, and often ugly expression of life. I’m forever in debt to the memories I made throughout this chapter in my life. I’ve followed this path which ultimately led me to a rendez-vous with integrity. But I’m ready to fall again, and I’m ready to hurt again. I may be just another brick in the wall, or a single drop of rain. But this desire to fail is nothing but an epilogue, a goodbye, or perhaps a fuck you to what once was...Listen, I have just begun.