A lifter pushes through a heavy deadlift set while delivering a chaotic, stream-of-consciousness monologue about darkness, struggle, and survival. The speaker weaves surreal imagery with raw self-reflection, oscillating between existential questions and the physical and mental strain of the lift.
Notice all the colors that you're seeing in your head now strip away this shit and feel the darkness Feel its bed this is what it's like to be known as dead now open up your eyes you see the world that is red now what's the word, Captain? I think I caught you naked There are nine more hands that this hail's packing no tippy tapping I call it rippy ripping I feel lucky I'm not you at the top I do the Duke Stuck in the fucking Dundas and it's cold at heart haven't felt some in some days where do I start? Start from the top and the next up the bottom Rock a bottom baby I swear I already got out what's the word Captain? I think I caught you legged they are not both man this hell's bacon no tippy tappy I call me rippy ring I feel lucky I'm not you at the top I.
