Post by Frazier on Feb 8, 2013 20:15:20 GMT -6
Sweat...
Yeah, there is a lot of sweat pouring down my forehead into my eyes. It’s clouding my vision as well. That’s just the beginning of my pain, pain that I feel everywhere in my body after a strenuous workout. That actually gives me an edge I like to feel every single time. It makes me feel…alive.
Just because I wake up every single day, it doesn’t mean I feel alive. It just means…that I’m here. I’m in the world. I don’t want to feel like a soulless walking meat. I want to feel alive. Alive is how I feel every single time I hear the growl of pain in my opponents. Am I at fault just for wanting to feel alive? Am I being selfish? Am I not being considerate about the feelings of the fellow mankind? No…I’m just me…a man with a goal…
The goal to feel alive…
I see Jonathan Collins not too far from me. He’s waiting anxiously to continue my training…I’m just waiting anxiously to draw blood from somebody…
Jonathan Collins: Frazier! Let’s go.
Finally... I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.
Jonathan Collins: Well, I’ve seen you in the weight room, I’ve seen you working on your technique alone, and I’ve seen you work out in general like a madman for the past hours. That is great and everything, but now is when the fun part begins.
Interesting…I can break someone’s arm then…at least that is fun…for me.
Jonathan Collins: Wipe that smile out of your face.
Busted.
Jonathan Collins: You know what we talked about, right dude?
Yeah, I’m not allowed to have MY TYPE of fun.
Jonathan Collins: Awfully quiet today? Let’s get this started then.
I see him make a signal towards the dressing room of the gym. I don’t know who is he bringing out, but I’m impatient to leave a mark on his face. Out of the back comes a white guy almost of my same stature and weight. He enters the ring and salutes Collins. He tried to do the same thing with me, but I can’t do that. He’s facing me on the other side of this ring, so he’s my enemy now. There is no time for acquaintances…but there is a lot of time for rearrangement of facial features.
Jonathan Collins: Remember this is only sparring, Frazier. You don’t go one hundred percent in sparring. That is why I have provided you with headgear and boxing gloves. Work on your technique, but don’t injure each other. Got it?
See? This is no fun.
Collins walks out of the ring and rings a bell. The victim and I circle each other before engaging in any type of contact. Couples of seconds go away as my victim starts jabbing his way to my face. This is boring. He keeps his distance and lands a soft kick to my left leg…then a soft jab to my face…then another soft jab to my face…
Why did I agree to this? I don’t feel any satisfaction. How will I get better getting hit by pillows? You know what? This is over. He’s leaving his right arm too low…too low…
*SPINNING BACK FIST*
Oh would you look at that. His knees buckled straight to hell. I grab him and carry him on my shoulder. You should see Collins’ face. He’s terrified…
Jonathan Collins: What on Earth are you doing!?
Having fun, Mr. Collins. I drop my victim on his head, wrap an arm around his neck and lock a beautiful and cringe worthy front guillotine choke. Is my opponent tapping out? I certainly feel someone pounding on the mat…but I don’t know if it’s him submitting or someone cheering me on. I prefer the second.
Jonathan Collins: Hey!
Collins pulls me away from my victim, pushing me to the ground. I don’t appreciate that, Mr. Collins. I get face to face with him, but he doesn’t back down. Maybe we can spar…
Jonathan Collins: Are you deaf? I told you even before the start to not give your hundred percent.
I’m certainly not deaf. I just skip over things that I’m unable to do. Like for example…not giving my hundred percent…
Jonathan Collins: I know you have special…cravings and stuff, but you have to control yourself. That is why I am here. That is the reason you came to this gym. You came to gain focus and contain that anger. You came to have some direction in your life for once, but you have to want it. I can only guide you towards the “right” path, but it is your responsibility to keep walking in said path.
Is there really a “right” path?
Jonathan Collins: I’m not here to nag on you and tell you what you should do. I’m not your father, but believe me; I want to help in your development. You just have to trust me no matter how difficult it is for you to trust anyone. I’ve seen you and you certainly have an enormous deal of talent that is being offset by your constant need to destroy something or someone. You should put that energy to better use and you will see the difference.
I crave that need…always…
Jonathan Collins: I will attend to this kid and make sure he is alright. In the meantime, think about what I said to you. If you want to stay the way you are right now, just walk through that door and I will never bother you again. But if you want to be a better man, you will stay and you will let me help you. The decision is yours. Good luck.
As I watch him go, I can’t help myself but ask…what do I really want to do? Can I trust him? Does he really want to help me? Or does he just want to calm the beast inside me so that I can’t destroy Exodus Pro completely? I may never make my mind up with answers to these questions, or make my mind up to stay or not…the thing is…
I’m still here…
-*-The cameras present us with an undisclosed location. The only thing we can see is the top part of the hoodie of Deathgrip. As the camera zooms out we can see Frazier looking down, sitting on the floor with his arms around his legs and his fingers tied with each other. -*-
“Why do you think you know anything about me?”
-*-Frazier looks up to the camera.-*-
“One of the stupid things about freedom of speech is that it allows morons like Daniel Prophet talk any crap his crippled brain instructs to say. What do you gain out of this, Prophet? Punches in your face? Broken body parts? Loose teeth? Is it worth it for you? Is it worth it to experience pain just because that videotape holds anything you can say? The videotape does, Prophet…your body, sadly for you, doesn’t.”
“Your petty jokes won’t make your body withstand the storm that I’m dropping on you at the March of War either. You want to go on national television with pictures of me and everything, trying to make a fool out of Deathgrip, and then expect to walk out of the ring on your own two feet? You expect to walk out of that ring on your own will and power? That isn’t happening, man. Wishful thinking is just that…wishful thinking. No matter how many times you say to yourself that you can win this fight, it won’t make it true. Self-inducing pep talk is just as useless as your existence Daniel, and I’m pretty confident that existence will be eradicated from the map soon enough…”
“No count outs is what makes the deal so much sweeter. There is no escape for either of us, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m trying to inflict damage until you can’t take it anymore. I want you to break in front of everyone…in front of me. You won’t be prepared for what I have in store for you and you won’t be prepared for the aftermath either, because when I’m finished with you, you’ll learn a pretty damn good lesson…”
“I’m not called Deathgrip because it’s cool…I’m called Deathgrip because I am IT. Your pain will be my pleasure, Prophet…and I’m planning to be on pleasure… all…”
“Night…”
“…LONG.”
-*-Frazier gives a sadistic grin to the camera while putting on the hoodie once again as the cameras fade to black.-*-
Yeah, there is a lot of sweat pouring down my forehead into my eyes. It’s clouding my vision as well. That’s just the beginning of my pain, pain that I feel everywhere in my body after a strenuous workout. That actually gives me an edge I like to feel every single time. It makes me feel…alive.
Just because I wake up every single day, it doesn’t mean I feel alive. It just means…that I’m here. I’m in the world. I don’t want to feel like a soulless walking meat. I want to feel alive. Alive is how I feel every single time I hear the growl of pain in my opponents. Am I at fault just for wanting to feel alive? Am I being selfish? Am I not being considerate about the feelings of the fellow mankind? No…I’m just me…a man with a goal…
The goal to feel alive…
I see Jonathan Collins not too far from me. He’s waiting anxiously to continue my training…I’m just waiting anxiously to draw blood from somebody…
Jonathan Collins: Frazier! Let’s go.
Finally... I hope he knows what he’s getting himself into.
Jonathan Collins: Well, I’ve seen you in the weight room, I’ve seen you working on your technique alone, and I’ve seen you work out in general like a madman for the past hours. That is great and everything, but now is when the fun part begins.
Interesting…I can break someone’s arm then…at least that is fun…for me.
Jonathan Collins: Wipe that smile out of your face.
Busted.
Jonathan Collins: You know what we talked about, right dude?
Yeah, I’m not allowed to have MY TYPE of fun.
Jonathan Collins: Awfully quiet today? Let’s get this started then.
I see him make a signal towards the dressing room of the gym. I don’t know who is he bringing out, but I’m impatient to leave a mark on his face. Out of the back comes a white guy almost of my same stature and weight. He enters the ring and salutes Collins. He tried to do the same thing with me, but I can’t do that. He’s facing me on the other side of this ring, so he’s my enemy now. There is no time for acquaintances…but there is a lot of time for rearrangement of facial features.
Jonathan Collins: Remember this is only sparring, Frazier. You don’t go one hundred percent in sparring. That is why I have provided you with headgear and boxing gloves. Work on your technique, but don’t injure each other. Got it?
See? This is no fun.
Collins walks out of the ring and rings a bell. The victim and I circle each other before engaging in any type of contact. Couples of seconds go away as my victim starts jabbing his way to my face. This is boring. He keeps his distance and lands a soft kick to my left leg…then a soft jab to my face…then another soft jab to my face…
Why did I agree to this? I don’t feel any satisfaction. How will I get better getting hit by pillows? You know what? This is over. He’s leaving his right arm too low…too low…
*SPINNING BACK FIST*
Oh would you look at that. His knees buckled straight to hell. I grab him and carry him on my shoulder. You should see Collins’ face. He’s terrified…
Jonathan Collins: What on Earth are you doing!?
Having fun, Mr. Collins. I drop my victim on his head, wrap an arm around his neck and lock a beautiful and cringe worthy front guillotine choke. Is my opponent tapping out? I certainly feel someone pounding on the mat…but I don’t know if it’s him submitting or someone cheering me on. I prefer the second.
Jonathan Collins: Hey!
Collins pulls me away from my victim, pushing me to the ground. I don’t appreciate that, Mr. Collins. I get face to face with him, but he doesn’t back down. Maybe we can spar…
Jonathan Collins: Are you deaf? I told you even before the start to not give your hundred percent.
I’m certainly not deaf. I just skip over things that I’m unable to do. Like for example…not giving my hundred percent…
Jonathan Collins: I know you have special…cravings and stuff, but you have to control yourself. That is why I am here. That is the reason you came to this gym. You came to gain focus and contain that anger. You came to have some direction in your life for once, but you have to want it. I can only guide you towards the “right” path, but it is your responsibility to keep walking in said path.
Is there really a “right” path?
Jonathan Collins: I’m not here to nag on you and tell you what you should do. I’m not your father, but believe me; I want to help in your development. You just have to trust me no matter how difficult it is for you to trust anyone. I’ve seen you and you certainly have an enormous deal of talent that is being offset by your constant need to destroy something or someone. You should put that energy to better use and you will see the difference.
I crave that need…always…
Jonathan Collins: I will attend to this kid and make sure he is alright. In the meantime, think about what I said to you. If you want to stay the way you are right now, just walk through that door and I will never bother you again. But if you want to be a better man, you will stay and you will let me help you. The decision is yours. Good luck.
As I watch him go, I can’t help myself but ask…what do I really want to do? Can I trust him? Does he really want to help me? Or does he just want to calm the beast inside me so that I can’t destroy Exodus Pro completely? I may never make my mind up with answers to these questions, or make my mind up to stay or not…the thing is…
I’m still here…
--------
-*-The cameras present us with an undisclosed location. The only thing we can see is the top part of the hoodie of Deathgrip. As the camera zooms out we can see Frazier looking down, sitting on the floor with his arms around his legs and his fingers tied with each other. -*-
“Why do you think you know anything about me?”
-*-Frazier looks up to the camera.-*-
“One of the stupid things about freedom of speech is that it allows morons like Daniel Prophet talk any crap his crippled brain instructs to say. What do you gain out of this, Prophet? Punches in your face? Broken body parts? Loose teeth? Is it worth it for you? Is it worth it to experience pain just because that videotape holds anything you can say? The videotape does, Prophet…your body, sadly for you, doesn’t.”
“Your petty jokes won’t make your body withstand the storm that I’m dropping on you at the March of War either. You want to go on national television with pictures of me and everything, trying to make a fool out of Deathgrip, and then expect to walk out of the ring on your own two feet? You expect to walk out of that ring on your own will and power? That isn’t happening, man. Wishful thinking is just that…wishful thinking. No matter how many times you say to yourself that you can win this fight, it won’t make it true. Self-inducing pep talk is just as useless as your existence Daniel, and I’m pretty confident that existence will be eradicated from the map soon enough…”
“No count outs is what makes the deal so much sweeter. There is no escape for either of us, but I’m not trying to escape. I’m trying to inflict damage until you can’t take it anymore. I want you to break in front of everyone…in front of me. You won’t be prepared for what I have in store for you and you won’t be prepared for the aftermath either, because when I’m finished with you, you’ll learn a pretty damn good lesson…”
“I’m not called Deathgrip because it’s cool…I’m called Deathgrip because I am IT. Your pain will be my pleasure, Prophet…and I’m planning to be on pleasure… all…”
“Night…”
“…LONG.”
-*-Frazier gives a sadistic grin to the camera while putting on the hoodie once again as the cameras fade to black.-*-