Post by Deleted on Dec 11, 2012 18:42:10 GMT -6
Three Years Ago, Outside of Boston.
Did you know alcohol is technically poison?
Technically.
Like light is technically radiation and bodies are technically lumps of flesh.
Lately I’ve been thinking technicalities are more poison than booze, but after getting my ear shouted off for the past thirty minutes I’m just content to sit by this tree and sleep till the woods look straight again.
I might be drunk. I might be loser...shit....
There’s really nothing worse than looking in the mirror and realizing that your face is made up of equal parts disappointment and pity....
For instance: tonight I got into the ring. Raised my arms above my head, turned around and got knocked down by one punch. One....punch. Hit me square in the jaw and before I knew it the ref was calling 1...2...3...
Mr. Daniel Prophet out cold in the ring. Technically, I lost. Big. Fast forward two hours later, it’s post-show at Shamrocks and Guinness is on tap and bad decisions fly around like darts. Allison is still sober. She’s my fiancée.
Or was.
Is?
No probably “was”....
Anyway....
She’s only on her first Vodka Cranberry and already she’s having a good laugh with the guys about my stellar performance. One-Punch Prophet. Taken down by a guy half his size in two seconds flat. I have five voicemails from my manager. I’ll listen to them in the morning. Problems always seem much bigger at night, I think. In the morning, I’ll feel better, I’ll be better.
Did you know that it takes 10,000 hours to get good at something?
Did you know that I’ve been alive for 219,000 and I’m good at nothing?
“DANNY!” Allison says.
“DANNY? What’s in your head right now?”
“Huh”
“If you get mopey tonight, I’ll break up with you. Alright one-punch?”
“Cute.” I say.
“You’ll get ‘em in the morning baby. Come on, get me another drink!”
I look at her up and down. I order myself a drink. Wink at the bartender. I used to get discounts at Shamrocks, tonight I’m that bitch paying full price.
“DANNY! What do they have on tap?” She says.
“Loneliness and broken dreams.” I say. I’ll totally quit drinking tomorrow.
“Are those new? Are they dark? I’m feeling something light.”
“I’m feeling like shit.” I say. “I’m feeling that I’m in wrong bar, at the wrong time, with the wrong girl and all I wanna do is sit down in the middle of the road and wait for a flash of light to take me home.”
Allison sets down her glass. She’s done. With her drink. With me. The finality of it all settles around us. It’s actually kind of nice.
“I didn’t sign up for this.” She says.
“I know.”
She takes off her engagement ring and throws it in my beer.
“Fuck you.”
She storms off. I look at her leave and I don’t know why, but I run after her. Into the parking lot. Behind the bar. Into a small grove of trees in the back.
“IF you leave I’ll be alone!” I yell. “And I kind of hate you, but I hate myself more and I don’t make very good company.”
She walks up and slaps me in the face.
One slap.
She screams at me. She’s wasted her life, she says. I’m a loser, she says. I’m only 24 and I’m already washed up she says.
“CONGRATULATIONS DANIEL!” She slurs. “You won the race to the bottom. HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!”
And now I’m sitting at the bottom of a tree. Like a true hero.
Get.
Up.
You asshole, I say...I think out loud. I get up and cross road.
I get about halfway across and stop at the double yellow lines. This seems like a good place to stop. To rest. I look up and see two bright lights coming towards me.
Technically death is just the stopping of heart.
Technically my heart stopped.
Technically it should’ve stayed that way.
Technically...
It didn’t.
Today. Arrival in E-Pro. In Daniel's hotel room.
Wake up Danny.
“Huh?”
You need to cut a promo. You’ll be late.
“I don’t care. I wanna sleep.”
You start in on that depressing emo shit again and I’ll take a cosmic shit right in your mouth.
“Alright! Jesus, I’m up I’m up.”
I’m not Jesus. I thought you knew.
I’ve been told that having voices in my head makes me crazy. But it doesn't happen all the time. Mostly since the accident, When a Prius made an unfortunate collision with my head. I woke up in the hospital, everything white and pristine. And this booking voice form the white just kinda...boomed.
WAKE THE FUCK UP AND FIX YOUR LIFE.
So I did. I got sober. I worked out. I got good. I am good. Better than most. Better than whatever they’re putting me against here at E-Pro.
Promo. A tight close up on Daniel. It's dark. You can't tell where he is.
"Hi Abby, how are you today? Feeling good? Good. To tell you the truth, I’m glad I’m facing you rather than any of these other clowns in ECW. You seem smart, strong, a fierce competitor."
"You’re gonna try. And that’s great. There’s nothing more wonderfully the American than trying."
"But baby, I don’t know if you know, but you’re small."
"Problems, problems."
The camera pans out to reveal a giant white wall. It envelopes the camera. Daniel let's the size sink in.
"You see, Abby our universe is big. There are galaxy's and nebulas and asteroid belts and stars that make Earth look like a dung beetle. There are universes expanding millions of light years in the smallest flick."
He flicks his bic lighter. The room goes dark, save for the flame on Daniel’s face.
"When it all comes down to it. You’re just a little speck girl trying to take up a little space in this big universe. You’re a bug. An insect. And you can be gone...just. like. That."
Daniel blows out the lighter. His voice booms, ringing with anger from the darkness. It echos.
"I’ve come too far. I’ve come too far to lose to you, to look like a joke again. I look at you and I see just another step. Just another infinitesimal thing I have to step on to get to the top."
He dials his voice to a whisper. The lighter comes on again. A close up on Daniel’s eye lit only by flame.
"You wanna knock the voices out of my head?"
"I’d like to see you try."
Did you know alcohol is technically poison?
Technically.
Like light is technically radiation and bodies are technically lumps of flesh.
Lately I’ve been thinking technicalities are more poison than booze, but after getting my ear shouted off for the past thirty minutes I’m just content to sit by this tree and sleep till the woods look straight again.
I might be drunk. I might be loser...shit....
There’s really nothing worse than looking in the mirror and realizing that your face is made up of equal parts disappointment and pity....
For instance: tonight I got into the ring. Raised my arms above my head, turned around and got knocked down by one punch. One....punch. Hit me square in the jaw and before I knew it the ref was calling 1...2...3...
Mr. Daniel Prophet out cold in the ring. Technically, I lost. Big. Fast forward two hours later, it’s post-show at Shamrocks and Guinness is on tap and bad decisions fly around like darts. Allison is still sober. She’s my fiancée.
Or was.
Is?
No probably “was”....
Anyway....
She’s only on her first Vodka Cranberry and already she’s having a good laugh with the guys about my stellar performance. One-Punch Prophet. Taken down by a guy half his size in two seconds flat. I have five voicemails from my manager. I’ll listen to them in the morning. Problems always seem much bigger at night, I think. In the morning, I’ll feel better, I’ll be better.
Did you know that it takes 10,000 hours to get good at something?
Did you know that I’ve been alive for 219,000 and I’m good at nothing?
“DANNY!” Allison says.
“DANNY? What’s in your head right now?”
“Huh”
“If you get mopey tonight, I’ll break up with you. Alright one-punch?”
“Cute.” I say.
“You’ll get ‘em in the morning baby. Come on, get me another drink!”
I look at her up and down. I order myself a drink. Wink at the bartender. I used to get discounts at Shamrocks, tonight I’m that bitch paying full price.
“DANNY! What do they have on tap?” She says.
“Loneliness and broken dreams.” I say. I’ll totally quit drinking tomorrow.
“Are those new? Are they dark? I’m feeling something light.”
“I’m feeling like shit.” I say. “I’m feeling that I’m in wrong bar, at the wrong time, with the wrong girl and all I wanna do is sit down in the middle of the road and wait for a flash of light to take me home.”
Allison sets down her glass. She’s done. With her drink. With me. The finality of it all settles around us. It’s actually kind of nice.
“I didn’t sign up for this.” She says.
“I know.”
She takes off her engagement ring and throws it in my beer.
“Fuck you.”
She storms off. I look at her leave and I don’t know why, but I run after her. Into the parking lot. Behind the bar. Into a small grove of trees in the back.
“IF you leave I’ll be alone!” I yell. “And I kind of hate you, but I hate myself more and I don’t make very good company.”
She walks up and slaps me in the face.
One slap.
She screams at me. She’s wasted her life, she says. I’m a loser, she says. I’m only 24 and I’m already washed up she says.
“CONGRATULATIONS DANIEL!” She slurs. “You won the race to the bottom. HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY!”
And now I’m sitting at the bottom of a tree. Like a true hero.
Get.
Up.
You asshole, I say...I think out loud. I get up and cross road.
I get about halfway across and stop at the double yellow lines. This seems like a good place to stop. To rest. I look up and see two bright lights coming towards me.
Technically death is just the stopping of heart.
Technically my heart stopped.
Technically it should’ve stayed that way.
Technically...
It didn’t.
Today. Arrival in E-Pro. In Daniel's hotel room.
Wake up Danny.
“Huh?”
You need to cut a promo. You’ll be late.
“I don’t care. I wanna sleep.”
You start in on that depressing emo shit again and I’ll take a cosmic shit right in your mouth.
“Alright! Jesus, I’m up I’m up.”
I’m not Jesus. I thought you knew.
I’ve been told that having voices in my head makes me crazy. But it doesn't happen all the time. Mostly since the accident, When a Prius made an unfortunate collision with my head. I woke up in the hospital, everything white and pristine. And this booking voice form the white just kinda...boomed.
WAKE THE FUCK UP AND FIX YOUR LIFE.
So I did. I got sober. I worked out. I got good. I am good. Better than most. Better than whatever they’re putting me against here at E-Pro.
Promo. A tight close up on Daniel. It's dark. You can't tell where he is.
"Hi Abby, how are you today? Feeling good? Good. To tell you the truth, I’m glad I’m facing you rather than any of these other clowns in ECW. You seem smart, strong, a fierce competitor."
"You’re gonna try. And that’s great. There’s nothing more wonderfully the American than trying."
"But baby, I don’t know if you know, but you’re small."
"Problems, problems."
The camera pans out to reveal a giant white wall. It envelopes the camera. Daniel let's the size sink in.
"You see, Abby our universe is big. There are galaxy's and nebulas and asteroid belts and stars that make Earth look like a dung beetle. There are universes expanding millions of light years in the smallest flick."
He flicks his bic lighter. The room goes dark, save for the flame on Daniel’s face.
"When it all comes down to it. You’re just a little speck girl trying to take up a little space in this big universe. You’re a bug. An insect. And you can be gone...just. like. That."
Daniel blows out the lighter. His voice booms, ringing with anger from the darkness. It echos.
"I’ve come too far. I’ve come too far to lose to you, to look like a joke again. I look at you and I see just another step. Just another infinitesimal thing I have to step on to get to the top."
He dials his voice to a whisper. The lighter comes on again. A close up on Daniel’s eye lit only by flame.
"You wanna knock the voices out of my head?"
"I’d like to see you try."