Post by SHOZO on Aug 9, 2015 4:23:43 GMT -6
I’m a champion now.
Now, thanks to me, the REVOLUTION represents the Pacific Coast.
Such a bizarre thought.
But it shouldn’t be. It’s what I’ve wanted since I stood on that ladder and announced the REVOLUTION’s formation. A title in my hand, a victory no one could deny me. People forced to finally take me seriously, to listen to what I have to say. I should be happy, ecstatic, joyful.
I’m not.
There is nothing positive in my heart.
I was so happy in the post-match, unreasonably so.
But it faded so fast. Once I told the story of my beloved brother’s murder, all of my energy disappeared. And two weeks later, none of it had returned. I feel like I’m embedded in mud almost completely. Almost. There’s enough of it to keep my body encased, to make even the slightest movements take the most effort imaginable. But not enough of it to choke the air from me and finally kill me.
Now that I’ve achieved holding gold I have only two goals left, and they’re so far apart. To change wrestling, and to perish.
All I want to do is die, and I can’t do that until I’ve succeeded.
But I don’t know how to quantify success anymore. Now that I hold this belt, and realize how little I feel about it. I have this belt, and it changes nothing.
Holding it does not make me happier. It does not fill the numerous holes in my heart.
What is this title? Nothing but a hunk of gold attached to a length of leather I can wrap around my waist. It symbolizes something bigger than I, a voice tells me. It symbolizes my indomitable spirit, it proves that my goal is righteous, that I was always right when I spoke. That voice lies. All it symbolizes is the brotherhood I’ve destroyed. His girlfriend, his best friend, himself. I’ve laid waste to them all. The bond we had, I tore apart bit by bit. This match was the final nail. I exposed Shinji wasn’t as good as me, that he was a failure of a hero and took what he had pride in. Buried him on top of the body of Tom and Destiny. I’ve begun to realize that’s what I’ll be most remembered for. More than any title, more than changing wrestling. They’ll remember me for the bodies I’ve strewn across the mat.
Was this what I set out to do?
Did I set out solely to cause pain, to destroy everything in front of me?
When I dreamed of my new world, did I already envision the corpse of Destiny? Of Tom? Of Shinji? Of my own father?
I can’t remember.
I’m scared I didn’t.
I don’t like to think about that, so I push it away.
But every time I push it away, the thing that comes rushing back to me like an oncoming truck is the realization.
I realized what made me so happy, in that brief time between pinning Shinji and beginning to tell the story of Ryusei’s undeserved death. It was not the thrill of finally having a belt to call me own. It was not the joy of knowing I had finally proved what I was saying was true. No, no, it was something far less pure.
I was happy that I had taken happiness from someone.
When I beat Shinji I took everything he had left. The pride he had for himself. His view of himself as a hero. The pride he had at being the first Pacific Coast champion, at defending it in his home country, showing the progress he had made. I destroyed it all. I showed that Shinji had no reason to have pride in himself, had no reason to view himself a hero, showed everyone back in Japan that Shinji was so far beneath me. Even more than that I took the crowd’s happiness at seeing their hero in action, the happiness they felt in the certainty that they’d see him vanquish me forever. And instead they saw me as I reached straight into his chest and tore out everything in wrestling that made him happy.
And that filled me with such joy.
I think back to the previous times I had felt that joy. When I drove Tom’s head into the mat twice, robbing him of his life for a month, giving him a future of recovering from a coma. I read up on that once. It’s not a pretty process, gaining a post-coma life. It takes a lot of will, a lot of strength. Things Tom never had. He lacked in them so much he tried to kill himself against me, and even then he couldn’t die right. The look on Shinji’s face, on Black’s, on Carey’s...the reaction of the moth girl...that tiny source of happiness, possibly taken away forever. It had made me so happy.
And before that, there was Destiny. The look on Shinji’s face...the look of every person in the crowd’s face...the look of complete sorrow, of complete fear. It was amazing, it made my dead heart soar. For Shinji it was seeing his love taken from him. For the crowd it was seeing one of them taken away, a fate that could befall any of them now. A fact that scared the SectionB kids so much, they all stopped coming to shows. They fled from the place they loved so much. I took all of the happiness the RIMAC would give them away from them. And it made me ecstatic.
This, I realize now, is the only way I can feel happiness. My heart is so wounded, so broken, so corrupted by what the world’s done to it that it can only feel joy when I take it away from someone else. Equivalent exchange. Their happiness sacrificed for mine. That’s a fair deal, right?
Right?
And now they’re ENCOURAGING this in me. This triple threat, three champions meeting one another in the ring. The winner gains a shot at the world title in two weeks. Does the Director not realize she’s giving me what I want? There’s so many opportunities to gain happiness here…
Two people that want more than anything to get their first shot at the World title. At possibly winning that belt, becoming remembered forever. They can already imagine it, the feeling of the belt being put on, the crowd showering them with cheers as confetti shoots down onto them...to take that dream and bash it’s head in, to splatter it’s brains all over them and make them understand how far away that is from the reality of me...it would be amazing.
And after that, no matter who has the world title, there’s more for me to take. If it’s Chris Strike, then I become the one to destroy his unbreakable “World” and take what he holds to himself so preciously.
And if it’s Black Jones…
Fresh off winning the world title, still riding that high. To take that happiness from him while it’s still fresh, to see him realize that for all of his hype and slung insults, I’m better than him...what an amazing feeling that would be.
But I can’t get ahead of myself, I have to take away the happiness of two women before that.
First, the San Diego Bay champion, Ruby Tyler. A woman coming off an absolute war two weeks ago, tearing her body apart to keep hold of her belt. The dedication she showed to her belt was impressive. The amount of violence she performed against Hardaway was more impressive. In my heart, I felt some small flicker. Watching that match, I felt reminded of years ago, seeing my brother and Kiriko wrestle one another in ridiculous deathmatches. Nowhere near that hateful, but the passion showed between Hardaway and her...it was nostalgic. But I wonder what did she do to anger the Director. Isn’t this unfair, to step into the ring with two people like myself and Savannah, when you’re still recovering from that kind of damage? I could spend so much time thinking of ways to take advantage of her predicament, to rewatch that match to find points on her that would still be weak, to target them. But I don’t, really. I just think of everything that’s happened to her, and I start to think of her as...a kindred spirit? Even after winning the belt, she seems unhappy. The title didn’t improve her life, it didn’t bring her joy. Her life, according to her tweets, remains sad. To get close to someone, only for them to vanish. The closest you can get to someone now is the person you hate the most. Awful, awful, awful. No one deserves that pain and yet still it happens to people. I understand what she goes through so well.
Even though she wants to beat me for everything I’ve done, take away my ability to perform and change wrestling, in the name of an Imperium that wants to hold me down...I don’t feel animosity towards her. To her peers, the bastards that get in the way of Evolution, that resort to violence as great as our own, I feel it. But not to her. Not really. Just the same pity I feel towards myself. Perhaps the greatest kindness I could give her is to METEOR her three times in a row and kill her. Save her from the pains of this life that I know so well. Perhaps saving someone from that pain would make me happy.
And after her is...
The International champion, Savannah Taylor. The greatest, shining example of Evolution this company’s seen. A woman thought to be nothing, carried off to be ravaged by a caveman. Her constant change and improvement silenced all doubters. She turned the San Diego belt into something to be respected, something to care about, even now she is without a doubt the greatest to hold that belt. She managed to stand out even while in the ranks of the greatest assembly of wrestlers to walk EXODUS, being a shining light of talent even while helping take apart this company. Even once that group fell apart, she continued to shine. Even after she lost the San Diego belt, her talent was undeniable. And now, finally, after a war with Justin Brooks, she holds the International belt. I can’t be happier to see that. She is the wrestler others should strive to be like. To Evolve like she has, should be the goal.
So it’s appropriate she’s put against me. I am the final test of someone’s Evolution. Either they beat me, proving they are ready for the new world...or they fail, and have to start again. It furthers my goals either way. Someone proves themselves and shows the future, or fails and I show what the future is. Savannah might be the Evolution I’ve waited to face. When I see her, I don’t feel the desire to defeat her, to brutalize her, to hospitalize her. I feel the desire to lose. I want her to beat me, to pin me, to prove herself. To show that there were those who had Evolved in EXODUS, and that they represented the future that needed to be strived for. If she did that, used me to prove the strength of her Evolution, then maybe I’d be happy.
But I know that’s not true. There’s only one thing that makes me happy anymore. Taking things from others. To destroy the happiness of others to regain some small bits of my own. To take what people hold dear, and crush it beneath my boot.
This is the Evolution I would dream of at night, isn’t it?
This is the person I always wanted to be, right?
Right?
.......
In another life, I might have felt pity for Ruby Tyler and Savannah Taylor. Stepping into the ring with the monster that rejected humanity to achieve his dream.
Perhaps I’ll be happy again when I stomp their dreams under my boot.
...or perhaps true happiness will still only be waiting for me after I’m reunited with my brother, in death.
Now, thanks to me, the REVOLUTION represents the Pacific Coast.
Such a bizarre thought.
But it shouldn’t be. It’s what I’ve wanted since I stood on that ladder and announced the REVOLUTION’s formation. A title in my hand, a victory no one could deny me. People forced to finally take me seriously, to listen to what I have to say. I should be happy, ecstatic, joyful.
I’m not.
There is nothing positive in my heart.
I was so happy in the post-match, unreasonably so.
But it faded so fast. Once I told the story of my beloved brother’s murder, all of my energy disappeared. And two weeks later, none of it had returned. I feel like I’m embedded in mud almost completely. Almost. There’s enough of it to keep my body encased, to make even the slightest movements take the most effort imaginable. But not enough of it to choke the air from me and finally kill me.
Now that I’ve achieved holding gold I have only two goals left, and they’re so far apart. To change wrestling, and to perish.
All I want to do is die, and I can’t do that until I’ve succeeded.
But I don’t know how to quantify success anymore. Now that I hold this belt, and realize how little I feel about it. I have this belt, and it changes nothing.
Holding it does not make me happier. It does not fill the numerous holes in my heart.
What is this title? Nothing but a hunk of gold attached to a length of leather I can wrap around my waist. It symbolizes something bigger than I, a voice tells me. It symbolizes my indomitable spirit, it proves that my goal is righteous, that I was always right when I spoke. That voice lies. All it symbolizes is the brotherhood I’ve destroyed. His girlfriend, his best friend, himself. I’ve laid waste to them all. The bond we had, I tore apart bit by bit. This match was the final nail. I exposed Shinji wasn’t as good as me, that he was a failure of a hero and took what he had pride in. Buried him on top of the body of Tom and Destiny. I’ve begun to realize that’s what I’ll be most remembered for. More than any title, more than changing wrestling. They’ll remember me for the bodies I’ve strewn across the mat.
Was this what I set out to do?
Did I set out solely to cause pain, to destroy everything in front of me?
When I dreamed of my new world, did I already envision the corpse of Destiny? Of Tom? Of Shinji? Of my own father?
I can’t remember.
I’m scared I didn’t.
I don’t like to think about that, so I push it away.
But every time I push it away, the thing that comes rushing back to me like an oncoming truck is the realization.
I realized what made me so happy, in that brief time between pinning Shinji and beginning to tell the story of Ryusei’s undeserved death. It was not the thrill of finally having a belt to call me own. It was not the joy of knowing I had finally proved what I was saying was true. No, no, it was something far less pure.
I was happy that I had taken happiness from someone.
When I beat Shinji I took everything he had left. The pride he had for himself. His view of himself as a hero. The pride he had at being the first Pacific Coast champion, at defending it in his home country, showing the progress he had made. I destroyed it all. I showed that Shinji had no reason to have pride in himself, had no reason to view himself a hero, showed everyone back in Japan that Shinji was so far beneath me. Even more than that I took the crowd’s happiness at seeing their hero in action, the happiness they felt in the certainty that they’d see him vanquish me forever. And instead they saw me as I reached straight into his chest and tore out everything in wrestling that made him happy.
And that filled me with such joy.
I think back to the previous times I had felt that joy. When I drove Tom’s head into the mat twice, robbing him of his life for a month, giving him a future of recovering from a coma. I read up on that once. It’s not a pretty process, gaining a post-coma life. It takes a lot of will, a lot of strength. Things Tom never had. He lacked in them so much he tried to kill himself against me, and even then he couldn’t die right. The look on Shinji’s face, on Black’s, on Carey’s...the reaction of the moth girl...that tiny source of happiness, possibly taken away forever. It had made me so happy.
And before that, there was Destiny. The look on Shinji’s face...the look of every person in the crowd’s face...the look of complete sorrow, of complete fear. It was amazing, it made my dead heart soar. For Shinji it was seeing his love taken from him. For the crowd it was seeing one of them taken away, a fate that could befall any of them now. A fact that scared the SectionB kids so much, they all stopped coming to shows. They fled from the place they loved so much. I took all of the happiness the RIMAC would give them away from them. And it made me ecstatic.
This, I realize now, is the only way I can feel happiness. My heart is so wounded, so broken, so corrupted by what the world’s done to it that it can only feel joy when I take it away from someone else. Equivalent exchange. Their happiness sacrificed for mine. That’s a fair deal, right?
Right?
And now they’re ENCOURAGING this in me. This triple threat, three champions meeting one another in the ring. The winner gains a shot at the world title in two weeks. Does the Director not realize she’s giving me what I want? There’s so many opportunities to gain happiness here…
Two people that want more than anything to get their first shot at the World title. At possibly winning that belt, becoming remembered forever. They can already imagine it, the feeling of the belt being put on, the crowd showering them with cheers as confetti shoots down onto them...to take that dream and bash it’s head in, to splatter it’s brains all over them and make them understand how far away that is from the reality of me...it would be amazing.
And after that, no matter who has the world title, there’s more for me to take. If it’s Chris Strike, then I become the one to destroy his unbreakable “World” and take what he holds to himself so preciously.
And if it’s Black Jones…
Fresh off winning the world title, still riding that high. To take that happiness from him while it’s still fresh, to see him realize that for all of his hype and slung insults, I’m better than him...what an amazing feeling that would be.
But I can’t get ahead of myself, I have to take away the happiness of two women before that.
First, the San Diego Bay champion, Ruby Tyler. A woman coming off an absolute war two weeks ago, tearing her body apart to keep hold of her belt. The dedication she showed to her belt was impressive. The amount of violence she performed against Hardaway was more impressive. In my heart, I felt some small flicker. Watching that match, I felt reminded of years ago, seeing my brother and Kiriko wrestle one another in ridiculous deathmatches. Nowhere near that hateful, but the passion showed between Hardaway and her...it was nostalgic. But I wonder what did she do to anger the Director. Isn’t this unfair, to step into the ring with two people like myself and Savannah, when you’re still recovering from that kind of damage? I could spend so much time thinking of ways to take advantage of her predicament, to rewatch that match to find points on her that would still be weak, to target them. But I don’t, really. I just think of everything that’s happened to her, and I start to think of her as...a kindred spirit? Even after winning the belt, she seems unhappy. The title didn’t improve her life, it didn’t bring her joy. Her life, according to her tweets, remains sad. To get close to someone, only for them to vanish. The closest you can get to someone now is the person you hate the most. Awful, awful, awful. No one deserves that pain and yet still it happens to people. I understand what she goes through so well.
Even though she wants to beat me for everything I’ve done, take away my ability to perform and change wrestling, in the name of an Imperium that wants to hold me down...I don’t feel animosity towards her. To her peers, the bastards that get in the way of Evolution, that resort to violence as great as our own, I feel it. But not to her. Not really. Just the same pity I feel towards myself. Perhaps the greatest kindness I could give her is to METEOR her three times in a row and kill her. Save her from the pains of this life that I know so well. Perhaps saving someone from that pain would make me happy.
And after her is...
The International champion, Savannah Taylor. The greatest, shining example of Evolution this company’s seen. A woman thought to be nothing, carried off to be ravaged by a caveman. Her constant change and improvement silenced all doubters. She turned the San Diego belt into something to be respected, something to care about, even now she is without a doubt the greatest to hold that belt. She managed to stand out even while in the ranks of the greatest assembly of wrestlers to walk EXODUS, being a shining light of talent even while helping take apart this company. Even once that group fell apart, she continued to shine. Even after she lost the San Diego belt, her talent was undeniable. And now, finally, after a war with Justin Brooks, she holds the International belt. I can’t be happier to see that. She is the wrestler others should strive to be like. To Evolve like she has, should be the goal.
So it’s appropriate she’s put against me. I am the final test of someone’s Evolution. Either they beat me, proving they are ready for the new world...or they fail, and have to start again. It furthers my goals either way. Someone proves themselves and shows the future, or fails and I show what the future is. Savannah might be the Evolution I’ve waited to face. When I see her, I don’t feel the desire to defeat her, to brutalize her, to hospitalize her. I feel the desire to lose. I want her to beat me, to pin me, to prove herself. To show that there were those who had Evolved in EXODUS, and that they represented the future that needed to be strived for. If she did that, used me to prove the strength of her Evolution, then maybe I’d be happy.
But I know that’s not true. There’s only one thing that makes me happy anymore. Taking things from others. To destroy the happiness of others to regain some small bits of my own. To take what people hold dear, and crush it beneath my boot.
This is the Evolution I would dream of at night, isn’t it?
This is the person I always wanted to be, right?
Right?
.......
In another life, I might have felt pity for Ruby Tyler and Savannah Taylor. Stepping into the ring with the monster that rejected humanity to achieve his dream.
Perhaps I’ll be happy again when I stomp their dreams under my boot.
...or perhaps true happiness will still only be waiting for me after I’m reunited with my brother, in death.
