WARNING: This picture might be considered obscene because the subject is considered swole; it may offend your weak privileged sensitivities. And we all know that only otter-mode guys can show their "abs" and not be considered "show offs." I'm not going to become skinny and weak for that. These are my muscles. Not yours. MINE. Meaning the choices I make about it, are none of your fucking business. Meaning my size, IS NONE OF YOUR F*CKING BUSINESS.
If my ripped abdominals, swole arms, awe inspiring quads, and mountainous traps offend you, then I'm okay with that. I'm not going to hide my swole, my nature, to cater to your dainty, privileged, and ignorant being.
This picture is for the tellers at my bank who demanded me to show them my abdominals, arms, and legs.
This picture is for my overweight coworker telling me my lifestyle is unhealthy. And that "protein powder is literally a steroid."
This picture is for the girl who sexually harassed me in the grocery store and felt it was "okay" because "I'm attractive" and "I should want that attention from women." (Her words, not mine.)
This picture is for all the fucking stupid clothing companies who are selling us skinny jeans. Telling us what is "hot" these days. I can't buy fucking jeans anymore thanks to your stupid fucking trend, assholes.
This picture is for the bro at the party who told me to lay off the steroids.
This picture is for the girls who say I'm "too bulky" and "gross."
This picture is for all the jocks in high school who thought they were better than me because I wasn't swole then. They made me feel like I wasn't a man; because I happened to enjoy skateboarding instead of football. I was 15. And they continued to bully me until I got out of high school, joined the Marines and got swole as fuck. Now whose friendship are they requesting?
Fuck your opinions. They don't matter. They don't decide who I am inside or outside. If you wont take the effort to judge me according to what beats within my chest or exists within my head then I wont take the effort to give a fuck about the jealousy disguised as ignorance, which salivates from your mouth.
MOST OF ALL, this picture is for me. The man who loved himself so much he took extreme measures to change his body to reflect the character, the toughness, the fortitude, that existed within himself. Who sweat for hours in the gym to build this swole. Who poured over training manuals and buried his nose in nutritional information until he was exhausted and then slept comfortably in the dark crevasses that exist where pages meet. Like he were Michelangelo chiseling tirelessly at the stone of which his body, mind, and soul were made of. Who saw what he wanted and unapologetically took it.
I'm finished with swole hate.
THIS IS MY SWOLE, DEAL WITH IT.