If Nobody Will Help You Do It

I Heave The Basketball; I Know It Sails In A Parabola, Exhibiting Perfect Symmetry, Which Is Interrupted By The Basket. It's Funny, But It Is Always Interrupted By The Basket.

Limits, Like Fear, Is Often An Illusion.

Maybe It’s My Own Fault. Maybe I Led You To Believe It Was Easy When It Wasn’t. Maybe I Made You Think My Highlights Started At The Free Throw Line, And Not In The Gym. Maybe I Made You Think That Every Shot I Took Was A Game Winner. That My Game Was Built On Flash, And Not Fire. Maybe It’s My Fault That You Didn’t See That Failure Gave Me Strength; That My Pain Was My Motivation. Maybe I Led You To Believe That Basketball Was A God Given Gift, And Not Something I Worked For Every Single Day Of My Life. Maybe I Destroyed The Game. Or Maybe You’re Just Making Excuses.

I'm Not Out There Sweating For Three Hours Every Day Just To Find Out What It Feels Like To Sweat.

I've Never Lost A Game I Just Ran Out Of Time.