My Survival Guide

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I’ve only been out for about two months. That’s it. Two months of breathing without chains. Two months of trying to remember what it feels like to live in a world where torture isn’t routine.

If I sound raw, vulgar, unpolished — it’s because hell forged me that way. The man I was before had to get mean as fuck to survive. I had to weaponize my mouth, my rage, my breath, just to endure cages built to erase me.

And here’s the truth: over the seven years of my daughter’s life, I’ve probably only been allowed to see her for four. The rest was stolen. Stolen by cages, by courts, by chaos.

That’s why I fight. That’s why I write.

This blog — and the book I’m building from it — The Ritual of Becoming — is not a “self-help” project. It’s not positive thinking. It’s not about plastering fake smiles over real scars.

It’s survival.

I survived 326 days in solitary confinement by one thing: the loop. My weapon was incantations — words repeated until my nervous system bent to them. Every day I pressed my hand to my chest, breathed deep, and roared into the walls:

“I don’t fucking lose. I am still powerful. I am still a winner.”

That loop engraved deeper than torture. That loop is why I’m still here.

And that’s what I’m handing you.

This blog will walk you through the same system — the same incantations, the same loops, the same survival code. Because whether your cage is debt, addiction, heartbreak, or a boss that drains your soul, the mechanics are the same.

Your mouth is a loaded weapon. Fire it right, and you live. Fire it wrong, and you collapse.

This isn’t theater. This isn’t bullshit. This is truth.
Scars on screen. Survival in ink. Weapons made out of words.

This is my fight.
And if you’re here, reading this — it can be yours too.