Post by "Punk" Drake Hunter on Aug 13, 2012 3:48:26 GMT -5
"All the strength and force of man comes from his faith in things unseen. He who believes is strong; he who doubts is weak. Strong convictions precede great actions."
There's more to strength than a big mouth.
Some people say that people can only be judged by their actions, not their words, and those people are completely and truly correct. And yet, a stiff right hand to the jaw heals. A broken arm heals, hell even a busted open skull, slashed wrists and arms, and barbed wire sticking into my back all heal. With the exception of an exceptionally stiff kick to the knackers, things dealt in that wrestling ring will heal. And yet, it's words that pierce so much deeper than a punch or kick. Words can hurt, there's no hiding from it, but it's the people who choose whether to inflict pain through the daggers of words of the brutality of fists that can differ.
Whether or not you use your fists like a man, face somebody and simply give them one across the jaw, or whether you hide behind a rock and start talking shit that may not even be true can definitively define a person, define their instinct, their feelings, their style, their personality, the truth deep inside them. A fist can equal a thousand words, no matter how bad it stings.
Which has brought me to the attention of quite possibly every single person in this joint. Yes, i am talking about Millennium Pro Wrestling, i am talking about people such as Rage, Jackson Blaze, Jason X, and even my opponent this week, Chris Michaels - who seems to think he's running some sort of mafia company, and yet does not even have the slightest godfather look about him. But most of all i am talking about the man i meet at High Stakes, a man by the name of Johnny Clash.
Mr. Clash seems to think that due to him running his mouth off so far it would be around the world by now, he has won this war. He seems to think that he's "got inside my head", that he's superior to me in every way. And yet, i have not seen him lift a finger when it comes down to what really matters. Fighting.
I get attacked by two goons in a suit - something i am becoming quite accustomed to after the most recent showing of Monday Night Main Event - and they turn out to be my old "buddies" Rage and Johnny. And guess what? Johnny didn't lift a finger then either. Once again he got his little cocksucker to do the dirty work, just so he could make the big reveal. Then he came down to the ring, interrupted me, and spat in my face after saying some nasty things about my old company. Once again, what thrilling action.
And then this week, when he didn't even make the effort to show up to my face before he started trash talking me, then he got the newest True Wanker onto me - who was also clad in a black suit - and jump me from behind, not even bothering to take off his mask until after i was knocked unconscious. As it happens, the man who attacked me had no connection to me, no connection to anything i'd done, and frankly, no connection to anything i'd seen on television or in the wrestling news. He may have well been a pink-haired transvestite pretending to be Lady Gaga the Wrestler.
And yet, here comes the media telling us that Jason Y - sorry, Jason X - has turned to the dark side and has joined up with Johnny Clash, Rage, and the other two (i really can't be bothered remembering who the two nobodies are - a whore and an old fart, that's about it.) Well, that's a load of bullswinkle, because the only dark side he'll be facing is the dark side of consciousness if he ever decides to try and jump me again. I sincerely do not think that Jason X has turned to the dark side. Because to be a True Wrestling Idiot, you need to have already been on the dark side.
And it's not like i need to worry about anything anyway. He's a rookie - he'll probably trip over his laces and fall into Bob Herman's lap. (see, there we go! I can remember) and once again, if he decides that he suddenly wants to get involved in my own business, i'll do to him what i did to Johnny's little slave Rage. I'll put him where he belongs, which is at the bottom of the food chain, just like Rage, and just like whoever else decides to join up with Johnny's little band of twats.
And yet, there is one man in there who is at the top of the food chain. The man who i'm facing at High Stakes, and the man by the name of Johnny Clash, who as it happens, also likes to talk. In fact, he's so good at it that he could probably win a war by simply talking the opposition to death. I know i'd want to commit suicide if i heard Johnny talk for over an hour.
But War's aren't won with words. Actions are. Words are for the Weak.
And it seems that my opponent this week is full of words, hell, after looking at what he has to say, i'd say he seems to think that he's already won half of the war through talking. And yet, i haven't seen him do anything in particular. I've seen him boast of how he run one of "The greatest businesses to ever grace the world of professional wrestling", but the reality is Chris, the only reason you won your match is because of Mr. TV champion, Justin Fischer. And as for businesses? Well, businessmen have no place in the ring. Outside the ring, i'm sure you'll be able to outclass me in winning a lawsuit or eating a donut, but trust me, you've never seen talent until you've stepped in the ring with the Technical Messiah. And yeah, that's me.
So Chris, i hope that you come in Monday Night Main Event with your a-game on, because then you might be able to last five minutes without being Dead In Advance. And as for your comment about this company being so far ahead of me, well, you might want to watch what happens after High Stakes, because i guarantee you that wherever you're watching, whether it be in your warehouse doing your business work and drinking coffee, or if you're shopping for a face mask for your partner at the Halloween shop down the road, i certainly hope you'll be watching, because i will be the next World champion, MPW, or NYCCW. It won't matter. Then maybe you'll see how far ahead I am in front of the company, and in front of you, and hell, in front of everybody else in this company.
I don't care whether it's you Chris, or some two bit rookie who decided to side with the devil, or whether it's the main man himself, Mr. Clash. I Am The Punk. And I Am The Best. End of story.
**PROMO FINISH**
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Change means that what was before wasn't perfect. People want things to be better.
If there is one thing i dislike in this world, it is change. The one thing that cannot be stopped, the one thing that i have no control over. And i do not like not having control. The way that the world changes, as the sun drifts beyond the horizon and comes back up in the morning. We do not have control over that, as we do not have control over the way the moon rises in the darkness, and lights up the world with it's reflection. Nor do we have control over the way that our bodies are forced to grow old, and our limbs are forced to grow longer.
But none of that matters to me, because it is far beyond my control. I am not God, if he exists, and i do not wish to be so as well. What i severely dislike is the way people can change. The very thing that costs championships and titles, and wins, and matches, is change in the human form. Because in the blink of an eye the world around you can change, just like the world of somebody else, who has decided that they want to change. That change could be good, or it could be bad. It could be to your benefit, or simply reflect the selfishness hidden inside everybody and become the sole benefactor of the person who has changed. Whether it be for their own good, or for other reasons unknown, there is only one thing known about change in the human mind - it is out of the control of everybody else.
It could be deciding one day that somebody has had enough of being a fat lazy slob and has taken up a diet, or it could be trying to change one's appearance to make themselves look more sexy. That change can only occur from the mind within, and from the very thoughts of the person itself. Sure, words can change the way people perceive themselves or others, but in the end there is only one cause of change - thoughts. And thoughts are out of my control, just as change is.
Now the entire point to this can be expressed inside that ring. This week i could show up to Monday Night Main Event and simply change my jacket because i didn't like my old one. Or i could change my hairstyle, or i could come out to the ring and start dancing around the ring. The point is, those things are my decisions to make, and mine alone. Nobody else is going to be able to make me change, nobody else has the power to make me feel differently, or make me see things other than the way i want to see them. Change is in the hands of only one person, and that is the person who is changing.
And that pisses me off.
Because in a world where you think you know something, only for it to change in the blink of an eye and for something completely different to occur, I desperately want to feel in control. I desperately want to feel the very change as it is about to happen, so that when it comes down to everything going on around me, i have the control, i have the power to know exactly what is going to happen.
Even those in control do not have that power. Even the mighty Bill Adams was forced to concede some of his power when the Total Wanking Icons bombarded "his" ring with their senseless stupidity and complete and utter disregard for everything that was happening around them. Bill Adams had to stand and watch, desperately attempt to save his company from crashing to the ground as everything around him seemed to turn into complete and utter chaos. And you see, there is nothing like chaos. There is nothing quite as unsettling as not knowing anything about what is going to happen next.
People can be put into major forms of power, they can be given thrones, and titles, and massive houses painted white and conveniently named "The White House". But in the end, he has as much power to prevent change as a homeless man on the side of the street, simply worrying about where his next twenty cents is going to come from so that he would be able to buy himself enough food for the night. Even this homeless man cannot prevent change from occurring. He can influence it sure, just like a scribble on one piece of paper can influence who the people of America see as the face of their country, or a hand in the air can influence the fate of a criminal. But there is nobody in this living world that has the power to create change in others.
Things can afford to change, just like things can afford to be manipulated. What can't afford to be changed however, is the very thing that keeps us in check. Our conscience. Because when that gets manipulated to the point of change, you know that we're all completely fucked. No matter how hard people hide it, no matter what lengths people go to to mask their conscience, to ignore the little voice inside them that tells them the opposite of everything that they're feeling, it cannot be avoided. If God built the conscience, he built it as a fail-safe for humanity. Because at the end of the day, what decides what you are and what you do is the little voice inside your head.
Unfortunately, my little voice is one fucked up little bastard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Draaaaakkeee.....Draaaaaakke. Wakey, wakey Mr. Punk.*
Shit.
I haven't talked to you in a while, have i Drake?
Double shit.
There are things that i've so desperately wanted to say to you, made you want to do, and yet....you've been ignoring me, trying to go to the "light side", try to be the big strong hero that you've so longed to be, haven't you?
Okay, i'm going to move on to fuck.
You see Drake, there is only one thing in this world, one thing, that has the power to stay the same forever, has the power to neglect change, and just like your thoughts, there is only one thing that has the power to stop change. Do you wanna know what it is?
Not particularly.
It's the little voice inside that head of yours, the one that's talking to you right now. The one that told you to walk out on the AWA, the one that made you betray all of your friends, all of your comrades, all of the people you knew and loved. Isn't it Drake? That's the only constant in this world, isn't it?
Jeez i hope not.
Drake, you know you will have to give in, you know that by the end of the day you will realize that everything is planned, everything you say and do is directly interwoven with me, and that eventually you will give in to me. Inevitable Drake, it is inevitable.
Remember that voice that i said was a fucked up little bastard. Yeah, that's him. I hear voices, i hear them as if they were standing next to me whispering in my ear, and the things that they whisper are most definitely not bedtime stories. No doctor has been able to confirm exactly what, or why they occur, but only that it is some form of conscience, some form of psychological disorder, or something like that. And believe me when i say that they ain't fun.
I can't even begin to remember how many times it's said those exact words, how many times it's told me that resistance is futile, that at the end of the day, it is inevitable that i shall give in to the voices and simply let my fucked up conscience direct my life. And the dangerous thing; i can count on one hand how many times it's been wrong.
None.
The infamous "walk-out" in the AWA, the betrayal of Nick Malone in NYCCW, the so-called "controversial" feud with Hacker - that whole time the voice was in the back of my head, telling me everything, guiding me through my life. If ever there was a greater influence, i would very much like to witness it, because nothing short of hypnosis could change me once i'm at the bidding of the voice. On all those nights, even when i was blocking it out, desperately attempting to cling on to whatever sanity i was able to, it still controlled me. It's words pressed against my skull, flooded my mind and subconsciously i obeyed all of it's commands, whether or not i was able to recognize it is a different story.
And now, guess what? It's back.
I slowly rise to a sitting position, trying to attain a firmer back rest as i blow the blonde tips out of my face and run a warm hand through my hair. I have no clue what i was dreaming about before the voice invaded my head, but whatever it was, it wasn't important enough for me to remember it. I pull my jeans up slightly before i adjust the couch, all the while thinking about everything the voice told me.
"Everything is planned, everything you do and say is directly interwoven with me." I say, repeating the words of the mysterious voice that has haunted me since i can remember. "Inevitable..." I let the word hang in the air for a minute before i pull my cellphone out of my exceptionally packed pocket and click the top button, leading to the familiar symbol of the silver apple symbol appear on the front screen, and the reassuring background of the iPhone appears on my screen.
I look down at my hands and i know that i'm going to need some time to think, to reflect on everything that seems to be happening around me, and reflect on everything that will happen in the future.
"But first, strip club."
I leap to my feet, placing the phone in my pocket and almost running towards the door as i attempt to neglect everything that was happening around me, and simply focus on the sexy body of a beautiful woman.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
There's more to strength than a big mouth.
Some people say that people can only be judged by their actions, not their words, and those people are completely and truly correct. And yet, a stiff right hand to the jaw heals. A broken arm heals, hell even a busted open skull, slashed wrists and arms, and barbed wire sticking into my back all heal. With the exception of an exceptionally stiff kick to the knackers, things dealt in that wrestling ring will heal. And yet, it's words that pierce so much deeper than a punch or kick. Words can hurt, there's no hiding from it, but it's the people who choose whether to inflict pain through the daggers of words of the brutality of fists that can differ.
Whether or not you use your fists like a man, face somebody and simply give them one across the jaw, or whether you hide behind a rock and start talking shit that may not even be true can definitively define a person, define their instinct, their feelings, their style, their personality, the truth deep inside them. A fist can equal a thousand words, no matter how bad it stings.
Which has brought me to the attention of quite possibly every single person in this joint. Yes, i am talking about Millennium Pro Wrestling, i am talking about people such as Rage, Jackson Blaze, Jason X, and even my opponent this week, Chris Michaels - who seems to think he's running some sort of mafia company, and yet does not even have the slightest godfather look about him. But most of all i am talking about the man i meet at High Stakes, a man by the name of Johnny Clash.
Mr. Clash seems to think that due to him running his mouth off so far it would be around the world by now, he has won this war. He seems to think that he's "got inside my head", that he's superior to me in every way. And yet, i have not seen him lift a finger when it comes down to what really matters. Fighting.
I get attacked by two goons in a suit - something i am becoming quite accustomed to after the most recent showing of Monday Night Main Event - and they turn out to be my old "buddies" Rage and Johnny. And guess what? Johnny didn't lift a finger then either. Once again he got his little cocksucker to do the dirty work, just so he could make the big reveal. Then he came down to the ring, interrupted me, and spat in my face after saying some nasty things about my old company. Once again, what thrilling action.
And then this week, when he didn't even make the effort to show up to my face before he started trash talking me, then he got the newest True Wanker onto me - who was also clad in a black suit - and jump me from behind, not even bothering to take off his mask until after i was knocked unconscious. As it happens, the man who attacked me had no connection to me, no connection to anything i'd done, and frankly, no connection to anything i'd seen on television or in the wrestling news. He may have well been a pink-haired transvestite pretending to be Lady Gaga the Wrestler.
And yet, here comes the media telling us that Jason Y - sorry, Jason X - has turned to the dark side and has joined up with Johnny Clash, Rage, and the other two (i really can't be bothered remembering who the two nobodies are - a whore and an old fart, that's about it.) Well, that's a load of bullswinkle, because the only dark side he'll be facing is the dark side of consciousness if he ever decides to try and jump me again. I sincerely do not think that Jason X has turned to the dark side. Because to be a True Wrestling Idiot, you need to have already been on the dark side.
And it's not like i need to worry about anything anyway. He's a rookie - he'll probably trip over his laces and fall into Bob Herman's lap. (see, there we go! I can remember) and once again, if he decides that he suddenly wants to get involved in my own business, i'll do to him what i did to Johnny's little slave Rage. I'll put him where he belongs, which is at the bottom of the food chain, just like Rage, and just like whoever else decides to join up with Johnny's little band of twats.
And yet, there is one man in there who is at the top of the food chain. The man who i'm facing at High Stakes, and the man by the name of Johnny Clash, who as it happens, also likes to talk. In fact, he's so good at it that he could probably win a war by simply talking the opposition to death. I know i'd want to commit suicide if i heard Johnny talk for over an hour.
But War's aren't won with words. Actions are. Words are for the Weak.
And it seems that my opponent this week is full of words, hell, after looking at what he has to say, i'd say he seems to think that he's already won half of the war through talking. And yet, i haven't seen him do anything in particular. I've seen him boast of how he run one of "The greatest businesses to ever grace the world of professional wrestling", but the reality is Chris, the only reason you won your match is because of Mr. TV champion, Justin Fischer. And as for businesses? Well, businessmen have no place in the ring. Outside the ring, i'm sure you'll be able to outclass me in winning a lawsuit or eating a donut, but trust me, you've never seen talent until you've stepped in the ring with the Technical Messiah. And yeah, that's me.
So Chris, i hope that you come in Monday Night Main Event with your a-game on, because then you might be able to last five minutes without being Dead In Advance. And as for your comment about this company being so far ahead of me, well, you might want to watch what happens after High Stakes, because i guarantee you that wherever you're watching, whether it be in your warehouse doing your business work and drinking coffee, or if you're shopping for a face mask for your partner at the Halloween shop down the road, i certainly hope you'll be watching, because i will be the next World champion, MPW, or NYCCW. It won't matter. Then maybe you'll see how far ahead I am in front of the company, and in front of you, and hell, in front of everybody else in this company.
I don't care whether it's you Chris, or some two bit rookie who decided to side with the devil, or whether it's the main man himself, Mr. Clash. I Am The Punk. And I Am The Best. End of story.
**PROMO FINISH**
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Change means that what was before wasn't perfect. People want things to be better.
If there is one thing i dislike in this world, it is change. The one thing that cannot be stopped, the one thing that i have no control over. And i do not like not having control. The way that the world changes, as the sun drifts beyond the horizon and comes back up in the morning. We do not have control over that, as we do not have control over the way the moon rises in the darkness, and lights up the world with it's reflection. Nor do we have control over the way that our bodies are forced to grow old, and our limbs are forced to grow longer.
But none of that matters to me, because it is far beyond my control. I am not God, if he exists, and i do not wish to be so as well. What i severely dislike is the way people can change. The very thing that costs championships and titles, and wins, and matches, is change in the human form. Because in the blink of an eye the world around you can change, just like the world of somebody else, who has decided that they want to change. That change could be good, or it could be bad. It could be to your benefit, or simply reflect the selfishness hidden inside everybody and become the sole benefactor of the person who has changed. Whether it be for their own good, or for other reasons unknown, there is only one thing known about change in the human mind - it is out of the control of everybody else.
It could be deciding one day that somebody has had enough of being a fat lazy slob and has taken up a diet, or it could be trying to change one's appearance to make themselves look more sexy. That change can only occur from the mind within, and from the very thoughts of the person itself. Sure, words can change the way people perceive themselves or others, but in the end there is only one cause of change - thoughts. And thoughts are out of my control, just as change is.
Now the entire point to this can be expressed inside that ring. This week i could show up to Monday Night Main Event and simply change my jacket because i didn't like my old one. Or i could change my hairstyle, or i could come out to the ring and start dancing around the ring. The point is, those things are my decisions to make, and mine alone. Nobody else is going to be able to make me change, nobody else has the power to make me feel differently, or make me see things other than the way i want to see them. Change is in the hands of only one person, and that is the person who is changing.
And that pisses me off.
Because in a world where you think you know something, only for it to change in the blink of an eye and for something completely different to occur, I desperately want to feel in control. I desperately want to feel the very change as it is about to happen, so that when it comes down to everything going on around me, i have the control, i have the power to know exactly what is going to happen.
Even those in control do not have that power. Even the mighty Bill Adams was forced to concede some of his power when the Total Wanking Icons bombarded "his" ring with their senseless stupidity and complete and utter disregard for everything that was happening around them. Bill Adams had to stand and watch, desperately attempt to save his company from crashing to the ground as everything around him seemed to turn into complete and utter chaos. And you see, there is nothing like chaos. There is nothing quite as unsettling as not knowing anything about what is going to happen next.
People can be put into major forms of power, they can be given thrones, and titles, and massive houses painted white and conveniently named "The White House". But in the end, he has as much power to prevent change as a homeless man on the side of the street, simply worrying about where his next twenty cents is going to come from so that he would be able to buy himself enough food for the night. Even this homeless man cannot prevent change from occurring. He can influence it sure, just like a scribble on one piece of paper can influence who the people of America see as the face of their country, or a hand in the air can influence the fate of a criminal. But there is nobody in this living world that has the power to create change in others.
Things can afford to change, just like things can afford to be manipulated. What can't afford to be changed however, is the very thing that keeps us in check. Our conscience. Because when that gets manipulated to the point of change, you know that we're all completely fucked. No matter how hard people hide it, no matter what lengths people go to to mask their conscience, to ignore the little voice inside them that tells them the opposite of everything that they're feeling, it cannot be avoided. If God built the conscience, he built it as a fail-safe for humanity. Because at the end of the day, what decides what you are and what you do is the little voice inside your head.
Unfortunately, my little voice is one fucked up little bastard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*Draaaaakkeee.....Draaaaaakke. Wakey, wakey Mr. Punk.*
Shit.
I haven't talked to you in a while, have i Drake?
Double shit.
There are things that i've so desperately wanted to say to you, made you want to do, and yet....you've been ignoring me, trying to go to the "light side", try to be the big strong hero that you've so longed to be, haven't you?
Okay, i'm going to move on to fuck.
You see Drake, there is only one thing in this world, one thing, that has the power to stay the same forever, has the power to neglect change, and just like your thoughts, there is only one thing that has the power to stop change. Do you wanna know what it is?
Not particularly.
It's the little voice inside that head of yours, the one that's talking to you right now. The one that told you to walk out on the AWA, the one that made you betray all of your friends, all of your comrades, all of the people you knew and loved. Isn't it Drake? That's the only constant in this world, isn't it?
Jeez i hope not.
Drake, you know you will have to give in, you know that by the end of the day you will realize that everything is planned, everything you say and do is directly interwoven with me, and that eventually you will give in to me. Inevitable Drake, it is inevitable.
Remember that voice that i said was a fucked up little bastard. Yeah, that's him. I hear voices, i hear them as if they were standing next to me whispering in my ear, and the things that they whisper are most definitely not bedtime stories. No doctor has been able to confirm exactly what, or why they occur, but only that it is some form of conscience, some form of psychological disorder, or something like that. And believe me when i say that they ain't fun.
I can't even begin to remember how many times it's said those exact words, how many times it's told me that resistance is futile, that at the end of the day, it is inevitable that i shall give in to the voices and simply let my fucked up conscience direct my life. And the dangerous thing; i can count on one hand how many times it's been wrong.
None.
The infamous "walk-out" in the AWA, the betrayal of Nick Malone in NYCCW, the so-called "controversial" feud with Hacker - that whole time the voice was in the back of my head, telling me everything, guiding me through my life. If ever there was a greater influence, i would very much like to witness it, because nothing short of hypnosis could change me once i'm at the bidding of the voice. On all those nights, even when i was blocking it out, desperately attempting to cling on to whatever sanity i was able to, it still controlled me. It's words pressed against my skull, flooded my mind and subconsciously i obeyed all of it's commands, whether or not i was able to recognize it is a different story.
And now, guess what? It's back.
I slowly rise to a sitting position, trying to attain a firmer back rest as i blow the blonde tips out of my face and run a warm hand through my hair. I have no clue what i was dreaming about before the voice invaded my head, but whatever it was, it wasn't important enough for me to remember it. I pull my jeans up slightly before i adjust the couch, all the while thinking about everything the voice told me.
"Everything is planned, everything you do and say is directly interwoven with me." I say, repeating the words of the mysterious voice that has haunted me since i can remember. "Inevitable..." I let the word hang in the air for a minute before i pull my cellphone out of my exceptionally packed pocket and click the top button, leading to the familiar symbol of the silver apple symbol appear on the front screen, and the reassuring background of the iPhone appears on my screen.
I look down at my hands and i know that i'm going to need some time to think, to reflect on everything that seems to be happening around me, and reflect on everything that will happen in the future.
"But first, strip club."
I leap to my feet, placing the phone in my pocket and almost running towards the door as i attempt to neglect everything that was happening around me, and simply focus on the sexy body of a beautiful woman.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
