Training

This guy doesn't believe me.

I'm very glad Voon didn't treat me mean just because I was mean. I was always mean to him in social media but we communicate peacefully when face to face. Of course, I'm still slightly, very mean.

I used to think I'm more of a single player. Now not anymore. Easter stroked with me. When we stroke half court, I think I'm losing. But when a guy and I versus her and another guy, she's not that good anymore and I think I could beat her. Conclusion, I could beat her in doubles, but not singles, despite how terrible our partners are.

Ginger doesn't really get me. Uhh. He said don't overthink. I replied, I don't want him to overthink. He went speechless.

If you want to improve, then I'll help.

I have other ways to improve. If there really are no training for me anymore, I'd go to courts for fun, without booking, then look for odd number people and join them. I'd look for random boys or better, uncles to play with. They'd help me improve. If there's no good players out there, I'd go to empty courts to work out on my shadows.

I've had two years of training that built up my stamina and muscles but ruined my basics. I've had two years to correct my basics to what I should have earlier, and that's it. I have four years of training, but actually three years of real hardwork. Wood thinks I'm ruined and I can't change. I'm gotta show him I can. I can correct my footwork.

I can. I can, without asking help from ginger. I can, without asking help from boys that you don't trust. I can do these things alone.

He trained himself for eighteen years.
He trained for more than ten years.

I've trained for four years, two years wrong shits, what do you expect? What do you expect from me!?

You people are good people. But I'm a fucking human. Okay?

I can't turn to a fucking state player in five mins. You can't, he can't do that to me.

Fuck my life, man. Just fuck.