Forgetting the good life. It's not as hard as it sounds, especially when you only get a taste every now and then. Now if it was a fucking filet mignon every week, then shit, it'd be tough to give up. Days of wine and roses? Fuck that, for me, it's more like shit and piss. So fucking what? I'm used to it. Remembering, now that's a whole different story. For the bodybuilder, no fuck that, anyone who lives on this planet, remembering makes us who we are. As a bodybuilder, I gotta remember… Remember where I came from, who I am, what really matters. I can never forget what's behind me either… All those who came before me and made a name for themselves… All the days of blood and guts I fucking spilled for this sport. All the things that have defined me… See, I believe without memory, there is no desire. Knowing what I had, knowing it's not enough, that I want more--that's at the heart of my endeavor. Without memory, there can also be no history. I know my roots, where I come from. I know where I'm headed on this journey. History... Yeah, I plan on making some of that too.