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Mar 31, 2016 16:35:12 GMT -5
Post by James Joseph Page. on Mar 31, 2016 16:35:12 GMT -5
Prologue: ...
Yeah...
...Yeah.
I just have to see what makes you tick. Everyone has a secret, everyone has something. No one can hide their feelings from me because every one of you is a transparent piece of trash just like me. You all are garbage just like me, and the sooner you realize it the better. Scum can act like a polished gem, but we all know you can't put gold on a turd and call it a prize...right...? You're scum Scott, scum. You aren't better than me. NO ONE IS BETTER THAN ME!!!! Not even this puke they put me in a ring with...what was his name...hm. Uh...L-Luke Jackson...was it? Luke Jackson, is the piece of meat they've given me. Tag Team Champions. Heh. Hehehehe...hehe.
...
The thought of you bein' in a ring with me...makes me rage. You know, I-I'm in tears with how angry I am. They want to shove me back in the hole. I climbed out of the goddamn gutter when I came here. I was getting fired from a Waffle House for stealing frozen steaks before I got a contract offering from this burning trash pile. And I've given them the best years of my life. I helped put them on the map. They went from BINGO HALLS to ARENAS, and I HELPED DO THAT!!!! On my back, I put everything on my back. I would die for my profession, because I'm too proud to work in fast food anymore and I'm too much of a coward to deal. So what am I gonna do...?
Where's my spot gonna be in history? Or am I just gonna get wiped out...? I asked myself that when I held the Pride Championship and lost it. I asked myself that when I lost the FGA World Championship, and I lost that too. I told myself the belt meant nothing, but it meant so much. And I look at you and Valero...and I know...sooner or later you'll be in the same boat as me. When you lose those championships you'll be nothin' but bags that management tosses out on the streets. And you say to yourselves, "It won't change me!" BUT IT WILL...!!! You think you're invincible, and then when you fly to close to the Sun...? Y'drown. You drown hard...
No one to help you, no one to save you. You're alone in a hotel room with a bottle of whatever's on the label at the time. So believe me when I tell you Jackson: All the glitter and gold...turns into SHIT!!! But, if you want...keep living in that limelight. Soak in it, I want you to douse yourself in it...just so I can set you on fire in our match. 2300 Arena. Philly.
Where's my spot gonna be in history? Or am I just gonna get wiped out...? I asked myself that when I held the Pride Championship and lost it. I asked myself that when I lost the FGA World Championship, and I lost that too. I told myself the belt meant nothing, but it meant so much. And I look at you and Valero...and I know...sooner or later you'll be in the same boat as me. When you lose those championships you'll be nothin' but bags that management tosses out on the streets. And you say to yourselves, "It won't change me!" BUT IT WILL...!!! You think you're invincible, and then when you fly to close to the Sun...? Y'drown. You drown hard...
No one to help you, no one to save you. You're alone in a hotel room with a bottle of whatever's on the label at the time. So believe me when I tell you Jackson: All the glitter and gold...turns into SHIT!!! But, if you want...keep living in that limelight. Soak in it, I want you to douse yourself in it...just so I can set you on fire in our match. 2300 Arena. Philly.
You're Gonna Burn in The Limelight.
Maybe it was the alcohol that put me in this weird dream.
Maybe not, maybe it was a reflection. Innocence long and lost, never returning. Or maybe it was reaching out to me. In my catatonic state I didn't know what to think anymore. I stared at her as she did me, looking at me as if I was a piece of a puzzle she couldn't complete. Her complex was radiant. I couldn't find the words, my mouth was dry. I searched through my pockets, my hands buzzing and numb from the beers I drank earlier. I found them, turned and tried to get away from this person. Something about her made me uneasy. Seein' her made my heart jump and my blood run cold.
Thinking I found salvation from my stalker, I turned and saw her. She stood still, looking at me. I froze, biting my tongue to make sure this wasn't real. As I bit down hard, it was true, this was reality. Alright, time to deal with this then. I went into the restroom, looking to take a breather, and to splash water on my face to make sure this was actually real. Five splashes on the face, and I was out. Peeking around the corner, I see her standing outside of the door. I casually walk pass her and then take a seat on my couch.
I didn't know what to say or do. She just kept giving me this content expression. I pulled out a cigarette and frantically searched for a lighter. Looking up at her, I calmed down. I had a black lighter on the coffee table keeping us apart. I light up, then glare around the room. I felt tense, confused, and still drunk. I was in a place of dejection. "Look." I said in a tired and beaten down tone, "I've got a lock box in my bed room you can have if you're plannin' on robbin' me. But I'd appreciate it that, when you decide to kill me, you shoot me in head. " I finished in a heartsick manner. I blow smoke from the corner of my lips and glare at her. She kept her gaze on me. I sigh through my nostrils, scratching at my brow.
"...Listen, I don't know what you want. I don't care at this point, just take what you want. I'm just not up to getting stared at by some weirdo chick off of the street. You follow me here, you somehow break in. What did I die? Are you some kind of ghost or some shit...? Yeah, I mixed the pills with the alcohol. What am I on DEATH'S DOOR or some stupid bullshit?" I asked these questions like a pompous prick. Telling her about me mixing beer with my pain medication didn't sound smart in hindsight. She might get the bright idea to actually TALK and tell the cops. I trail off of my cigarette slowly, then blow the smoke through my nose. She kept staring, quiet. I look off to the side and felt as if I was being judged by her. If I needed to talk to somebody I had a shrink for that. I didn't need some DIVINE INTERVENTION.
No, I'm getting help for that, and I didn't need this. "Can you just get out? If you aren't here to rob me then just fuckin' leave...please." I said, putting my cigarette out. I stand up, walk to the door and point, "Get out." I command, but she doesn't budge. "GET OUT!" I bark, annoyed at this point. When she wouldn't move, I march over to grab her. As I did, I felt a jolt through my body. I pulled away, stumbling and falling on the ground. Suddenly, she sqauts down, brushing the hair out of my face. He places a hand on my cheek. I was awestruck, the jolt went throughout my body. I felt warm, something about her...it felt. I nuzzled into her hand, in a dazed state.
I grab it, not wanting the warm feeling to go away. But then I opened my eyes, and saw her. I came back to my senses and pushed away slightly. My eyes wandered into space, not knowing what to truly say. When I went to speak, she stopped me. She held her lips towards my ear... "-.-- --- ..- / -.. --- -. .----. - / -. . . -.. / - --- / -... . / .- ..-. .-. .- .. -.. / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. . .-.-.-" I squint my eyes, feeling as if I could understand her whispers. "-.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . -. .----. - / .- .-.. --- -. ." Her whispers felt sweet. My eyes were closed, almost soothed by it. I opened them and she had gone. In my stupor I looked around the house to see if she had really gone. In my hands were a bottle of painkillers and a can of beer. I saw my reflection in the T.V. and I looked like shit.
I looked like I had been in my apartment dead on the floor for days. My eyes were sunken and red. Did I...die? I stand up, heading to the restroom as quick as I could. I went to the toilet and felt a rush of beer and bile empty from my stomach. I puked, I puked until my eyes began to water. As I finished, I slumped against the toilet. I was in pain...I was in pain and I was all alone. But something about that woman made it all make sense. I had to ask her...
What did it all mean...?
The camera was at floor level. There I laid on the carpet of my hotel room. My eyes were glossed over, and my hand tapped against the soft fabric of the carpet below me.
"Every time I think I understand something, life throws me a curveball. You think you have someone beat you, you think this is the end and then...life takes control. I had that match won, I had it won and I let it slip from my grasp, I LET IT--...I...let it slip. And now look at me, what do I have for it, you tell me? What do I have to show for my work? Nothing, nothing at all. And it doesn't make my case for a match against Scott any clearer. I even gave an invitation to meet him at the Gold Rush Rumble. You would think for an opportunity to get a chance at the belt, Scott would jump at the chance. You would think, right? But no, he's too much of a coward. He just wants to spite me. So if he wants to keep playing games with me, fine. Two can play at this game."
I keep tapping my fingers against the carpet, my gaze still glossy.
"So Chandler can keep playing games. He doesn't get the satisfaction of me begging. I won't let him see me gravel. No, no, I'm not gonna beg for this match. No see, I'm going to take it by force. I want this match more than anything. I even tried to call FGA's Front Office to sanction it, but they never returned my calls. You would think, with all I've done for this place I would get some respect. No one respects me though. Who am I to these people? Who am I to the roster? People use to shake in their boots when they saw me, now they just laugh in my face."
I scowl, the embarrassment tearing my heart to shreds. I felt my eyes begin to puff up, I choke back tears and continue.
"He won't give me this one thing to make me relevant again. When I held that belt I told everyone, I told them if I lose it I become a ghost. No one would notice me, no one would care. Everyone lives in their happy lil' lives and me? What do I get? And I try and fight it, I try with all I have. You can fight for so long against your demons. You fight, but you won't win. I can't win, I just can't, and I have a chance to WIN against this demon and HE WON'T EVEN ANSWER MY--"
I slam my hands down on the ground, standing up on my knees, glaring into the camera with wild eyes.
"TWEET!!! I'm not even worth a tweet from him!!! I'M NOT EVEN WORTH A GODDAMN 150 MESSAGE TEXT!!! I'm nothing to him, and it tears me apart. It ruins my pride, God it ruins me!! It's tearing me apart and it won't stop hurting!! I can't get away from it!! All I want it a chance to prove, I'm as good as he is! All I want to prove is that, my two and a half years here in Frontier Grappling Arts isn't a fluke!"
I slowly sit on my ass, leaning against the hotel dresser. My face was red with the idea that everything I made of myself was luck. I point at the camera.
"I AM NOT A FLUKE...! Never. I made something of myself, and damn it I will be RESPECTED...! Even if I have to beat it out of everyone on this fuckin' roster. I will get the respect I deserve. And in Philly, I'm going to beat it out of Luke Jackson. I'm going to beat my respect into him. He's gonna learn, EVERYONE IS GONNA LEARN THAT I'M NOT A FLUKE!!!! I'M NOT A FLUKE!!!!"
I scream loudly, bawling as rock back and forth. I try and calm down, I began to breathe heavily. Rocking back and forth I try and keep my composure as best I could.
"Jackson, I don't care about your shiny Tag Team Championship. At this point, I don't want anything to do with any other belt besides my FGA World Championship. You aren't a diamond in the rough, no you are simple an ugly piece of coal. That belt might mean something in your head. To me, it's just a meaningless accolade to suffice the content pieces of crap who step into this place. The belt doesn't make the man, the man makes the belt, and to be quite frank you're not much of a man to begin with. A boy playing grown-up. No ambitions, no wants, no dreams. You're stuck being thankful for table scraps."
I claw my hair out of my face.
"I've had those scraps, and between you and me, they don't stop the hunger. Oh no."
I continue a crooked smirk on my face, remembering the fond times I was champion. Continuing to rock in place.
"You've never felt a love like I have, Jackson. And when that love...is taken from you, you do what you can to get it back. I have done so much to get Her back. So while you continue to play games like a boy; I'll be the better MAN and I'll be heading to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to WIN!!! I'm going to WIN this match, and there's nothing you can do about it accept lay down and TAKE IT!!! So when I beat you Jackson, I want you to know this is for your own good. Little boys can't be grow up ignorant. I'm doing you a favor. "
I bottom lips begins to quiver. I glare into the camera.
"So be a good little boy, and take your beating...like a MAN."
I crawl to the camera, and then turn it off...then...
END.
Maybe not, maybe it was a reflection. Innocence long and lost, never returning. Or maybe it was reaching out to me. In my catatonic state I didn't know what to think anymore. I stared at her as she did me, looking at me as if I was a piece of a puzzle she couldn't complete. Her complex was radiant. I couldn't find the words, my mouth was dry. I searched through my pockets, my hands buzzing and numb from the beers I drank earlier. I found them, turned and tried to get away from this person. Something about her made me uneasy. Seein' her made my heart jump and my blood run cold.
Thinking I found salvation from my stalker, I turned and saw her. She stood still, looking at me. I froze, biting my tongue to make sure this wasn't real. As I bit down hard, it was true, this was reality. Alright, time to deal with this then. I went into the restroom, looking to take a breather, and to splash water on my face to make sure this was actually real. Five splashes on the face, and I was out. Peeking around the corner, I see her standing outside of the door. I casually walk pass her and then take a seat on my couch.
I didn't know what to say or do. She just kept giving me this content expression. I pulled out a cigarette and frantically searched for a lighter. Looking up at her, I calmed down. I had a black lighter on the coffee table keeping us apart. I light up, then glare around the room. I felt tense, confused, and still drunk. I was in a place of dejection. "Look." I said in a tired and beaten down tone, "I've got a lock box in my bed room you can have if you're plannin' on robbin' me. But I'd appreciate it that, when you decide to kill me, you shoot me in head. " I finished in a heartsick manner. I blow smoke from the corner of my lips and glare at her. She kept her gaze on me. I sigh through my nostrils, scratching at my brow.
"...Listen, I don't know what you want. I don't care at this point, just take what you want. I'm just not up to getting stared at by some weirdo chick off of the street. You follow me here, you somehow break in. What did I die? Are you some kind of ghost or some shit...? Yeah, I mixed the pills with the alcohol. What am I on DEATH'S DOOR or some stupid bullshit?" I asked these questions like a pompous prick. Telling her about me mixing beer with my pain medication didn't sound smart in hindsight. She might get the bright idea to actually TALK and tell the cops. I trail off of my cigarette slowly, then blow the smoke through my nose. She kept staring, quiet. I look off to the side and felt as if I was being judged by her. If I needed to talk to somebody I had a shrink for that. I didn't need some DIVINE INTERVENTION.
No, I'm getting help for that, and I didn't need this. "Can you just get out? If you aren't here to rob me then just fuckin' leave...please." I said, putting my cigarette out. I stand up, walk to the door and point, "Get out." I command, but she doesn't budge. "GET OUT!" I bark, annoyed at this point. When she wouldn't move, I march over to grab her. As I did, I felt a jolt through my body. I pulled away, stumbling and falling on the ground. Suddenly, she sqauts down, brushing the hair out of my face. He places a hand on my cheek. I was awestruck, the jolt went throughout my body. I felt warm, something about her...it felt. I nuzzled into her hand, in a dazed state.
I grab it, not wanting the warm feeling to go away. But then I opened my eyes, and saw her. I came back to my senses and pushed away slightly. My eyes wandered into space, not knowing what to truly say. When I went to speak, she stopped me. She held her lips towards my ear... "-.-- --- ..- / -.. --- -. .----. - / -. . . -.. / - --- / -... . / .- ..-. .-. .- .. -.. / .- -. -.-- -- --- .-. . .-.-.-" I squint my eyes, feeling as if I could understand her whispers. "-.-- --- ..- / .- .-. . -. .----. - / .- .-.. --- -. ." Her whispers felt sweet. My eyes were closed, almost soothed by it. I opened them and she had gone. In my stupor I looked around the house to see if she had really gone. In my hands were a bottle of painkillers and a can of beer. I saw my reflection in the T.V. and I looked like shit.
I looked like I had been in my apartment dead on the floor for days. My eyes were sunken and red. Did I...die? I stand up, heading to the restroom as quick as I could. I went to the toilet and felt a rush of beer and bile empty from my stomach. I puked, I puked until my eyes began to water. As I finished, I slumped against the toilet. I was in pain...I was in pain and I was all alone. But something about that woman made it all make sense. I had to ask her...
What did it all mean...?
The camera was at floor level. There I laid on the carpet of my hotel room. My eyes were glossed over, and my hand tapped against the soft fabric of the carpet below me.
"Every time I think I understand something, life throws me a curveball. You think you have someone beat you, you think this is the end and then...life takes control. I had that match won, I had it won and I let it slip from my grasp, I LET IT--...I...let it slip. And now look at me, what do I have for it, you tell me? What do I have to show for my work? Nothing, nothing at all. And it doesn't make my case for a match against Scott any clearer. I even gave an invitation to meet him at the Gold Rush Rumble. You would think for an opportunity to get a chance at the belt, Scott would jump at the chance. You would think, right? But no, he's too much of a coward. He just wants to spite me. So if he wants to keep playing games with me, fine. Two can play at this game."
I keep tapping my fingers against the carpet, my gaze still glossy.
"So Chandler can keep playing games. He doesn't get the satisfaction of me begging. I won't let him see me gravel. No, no, I'm not gonna beg for this match. No see, I'm going to take it by force. I want this match more than anything. I even tried to call FGA's Front Office to sanction it, but they never returned my calls. You would think, with all I've done for this place I would get some respect. No one respects me though. Who am I to these people? Who am I to the roster? People use to shake in their boots when they saw me, now they just laugh in my face."
I scowl, the embarrassment tearing my heart to shreds. I felt my eyes begin to puff up, I choke back tears and continue.
"He won't give me this one thing to make me relevant again. When I held that belt I told everyone, I told them if I lose it I become a ghost. No one would notice me, no one would care. Everyone lives in their happy lil' lives and me? What do I get? And I try and fight it, I try with all I have. You can fight for so long against your demons. You fight, but you won't win. I can't win, I just can't, and I have a chance to WIN against this demon and HE WON'T EVEN ANSWER MY--"
I slam my hands down on the ground, standing up on my knees, glaring into the camera with wild eyes.
"TWEET!!! I'm not even worth a tweet from him!!! I'M NOT EVEN WORTH A GODDAMN 150 MESSAGE TEXT!!! I'm nothing to him, and it tears me apart. It ruins my pride, God it ruins me!! It's tearing me apart and it won't stop hurting!! I can't get away from it!! All I want it a chance to prove, I'm as good as he is! All I want to prove is that, my two and a half years here in Frontier Grappling Arts isn't a fluke!"
I slowly sit on my ass, leaning against the hotel dresser. My face was red with the idea that everything I made of myself was luck. I point at the camera.
"I AM NOT A FLUKE...! Never. I made something of myself, and damn it I will be RESPECTED...! Even if I have to beat it out of everyone on this fuckin' roster. I will get the respect I deserve. And in Philly, I'm going to beat it out of Luke Jackson. I'm going to beat my respect into him. He's gonna learn, EVERYONE IS GONNA LEARN THAT I'M NOT A FLUKE!!!! I'M NOT A FLUKE!!!!"
I scream loudly, bawling as rock back and forth. I try and calm down, I began to breathe heavily. Rocking back and forth I try and keep my composure as best I could.
"Jackson, I don't care about your shiny Tag Team Championship. At this point, I don't want anything to do with any other belt besides my FGA World Championship. You aren't a diamond in the rough, no you are simple an ugly piece of coal. That belt might mean something in your head. To me, it's just a meaningless accolade to suffice the content pieces of crap who step into this place. The belt doesn't make the man, the man makes the belt, and to be quite frank you're not much of a man to begin with. A boy playing grown-up. No ambitions, no wants, no dreams. You're stuck being thankful for table scraps."
I claw my hair out of my face.
"I've had those scraps, and between you and me, they don't stop the hunger. Oh no."
I continue a crooked smirk on my face, remembering the fond times I was champion. Continuing to rock in place.
"You've never felt a love like I have, Jackson. And when that love...is taken from you, you do what you can to get it back. I have done so much to get Her back. So while you continue to play games like a boy; I'll be the better MAN and I'll be heading to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania to WIN!!! I'm going to WIN this match, and there's nothing you can do about it accept lay down and TAKE IT!!! So when I beat you Jackson, I want you to know this is for your own good. Little boys can't be grow up ignorant. I'm doing you a favor. "
I bottom lips begins to quiver. I glare into the camera.
"So be a good little boy, and take your beating...like a MAN."
I crawl to the camera, and then turn it off...then...
END.
