Post by Eddie D. on Aug 4, 2023 0:08:11 GMT
Darkness becomes light, the light wakes you from your slumber. Your eyes slowly flutter open. Your back is sore from the stiff mat, your neck feels like a winded up slinky and don’t even get started on your shoulders? It feels like your shoulder sockets are made of razor blades and every little movement is enough to make you cry.
It’s just another day in a padded cell.
You reposition yourself so you can squat to your feet. There isn’t anywhere to go, they haven’t opened the padded door yet but you feel like standing. Twenty three and a half hours is a lot of time to spend in a ten by ten room and sometimes you need to stretch your legs. You begin your first lap of the tiny room. The lights are on so breakfast is on its way. You wonder what they’ll be bringing today.
A fat stack of pancakes with all the syrup Vermont has to offer would be nice but more than likely it’ll be something they call oatmeal. Grey and flavorless. They can’t risk you trying to unalive yourself on something as lavish as a pancake or use a plastic butterknife to sever an artery.
You laugh at the thought. A plastic knife? They can barely even cut the pancakes let alone saw through your battle hardened flesh. Hell, at your height? Barbed wire barely cut your skin. But hey? Those are the rules.
You complete your second lap. Food should almost be here. You greedily hope they give you a spoon today. The good Doctor said you could have one if you behaved and you’ve been nothing but an Angel for weeks.
You're suddenly startled with excitement as the little metal box slides into the room. Your eyes dart hoping to see that steaming bowl with its plastic spoon but your heart drops deep into your chest.
Dry toast.
And a plastic cup of milk with no straw.
They still don’t trust you to use your hands even though you’ve been so good. You’ve followed all the rules. You’ve played nice with the other patients. Why? It’s been months since you so much as uttered a curse word let alone body slammed someone through a folding table.
YOU DESERVE A SPOON!!!
You rage despite your arms being trapped, they crisscross in front of you like a contained tornado. Your shoulders furiously move from side to side as you try to break free of the straight jacket but there isn’t any give. You viciously kick at the metal slide out tray with your bare foot, sending the toast and milk flying into the air. Your foot pangs with pain but that is nothing compared to what you know is coming next.
The orderlies.
You back yourself up into a corner, ready to fight, you know they are coming now. All you wanted was a goddamn spoon, a little goddamn respect and maybe a flapjack!
The door is suddenly flung open as the men in white come rushing in. They’ve learned from previous encounters, there’s ten of them this time. Nine to force you down to the padded floor and one to administer the drugs.
You fade back into that sweet, sweet darkness.
You just wanted a spoon…
”Oh Nick…”
Your eyes shoot open.
”You never learn, do you?”
You try to turn your head but find that it is strapped down at the forehead. Your upper body is too despite the straight jacket that still confines you and of course each of your ankles is tied down to the bed you find yourself in. At least the bed has a mattress instead of being just a slab of steel, they’re probably afraid you’d find a way to cave your own head in on steel.
”After everything we’ve been through together you still think you can win?”
You close your eyes tight, you refuse to listen to him. Not again. He promised you a spoon and all he gave you was toast. Fuck him!
”I know you know the definition of insanity…”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. You’ve heard it from every quack from here to Tokyo! What the hell do they know anyways! PHDs!? That’s just a piece of paper. They don’t live in your head!
”And yet you continue walking down the same path, saying the same things, never seeing that this little war you’re waging is futile…”
Futile!? You’re trying to change the world for the better! There’s nothing futile about that! You either change it or you die as a martyr for the cause! Both options sound pretty goddamn good to you. But of course he’d say it’s futile sitting atop his golden throne surrounded by yes-men and subservient bitches who feed his ego.
”I know somewhere inside you, you understand…”
Understand what!? That people like him are what’s killing the world!? Yeah, you understand! You understand all too damn well. It’s everyone else who doesn’t understand! All those idiots who worship this guy like a god based on his miles long list of accomplishments. Well you’re not going to fall for it. Not you. This deceiver can spit his lies with a silver tongue all damn day long, you won’t fall in line.
”You just refuse to admit you’re wrong…”
Wrong about what!? Wrong about all the whores in the world!? Selling their bodies for money and fame while you toiled away in dirty bars and crumbling high schools honing your craft!!! They should aspire to be like you! They should respect you! They should have just given you that goddamn spoon!
”About literally everything…”
HMPF!!! Yeah, I bet he feels that way while he sits in that comfy chair and judges you. And who the hell is he to judge you anyway!? He’s just another schmuck, another idiot, another brain dead moron feeding into the slow murder of something you love so much! It's this fucking idiot who needs to open his eyes and see the truth.
”You see the world as black and white. Good and bad. You refuse to acknowledge the nuance…”
The nuance!? The nuance of what!? Assholes going out of their way to feed their selfish ego!? Fuck that! You aren’t about to feed into that bullshit! Not you! Not now! Not ever! You don’t care how long they try and keep you locked up, you will get out, you will get back to work and you will change this world or die trying.
”Besides, shaping the world into what you think is just through force is the definition of tyranny, you hate tyranny…”
...
”You think it is people like me, my family, the ones we associate with both as friend and foe who are leading the charge toward the slow death of our industry. But what if I told you it was people like you?”
Now who’s the psychopath who belongs in a padded cell!? This guy is quackier than a than a duck swimming in the Hudson River with three eyes, five wings and both sets of genitals!
”You refuse to grow. You refuse to change. You refuse to embrace the future. You see our sport through the eyes of the child who fell in love with it. The world has moved forward and so must you…”
Fuck the world! The world is a fucking cesspool of sycophants and degenerates too worried about getting a million likes on X or Twitter or whatever the fuck it’s called! They don’t care about things like you do! They don’t feel about things the way you do! They can’t see a goddamn thing beyond their own reflection!
”But you're stuck. As if your feet were made of cinder-blocks and your arms were chained to the ground…”
Yeah well someone has to stand up for what's best for the world, right!?
”You live in a past that never existed. A world of super heroes and super villains. People in white hats. People in dark hats. When in fact there have never been good guys or bad guys. That man you cheered for as a child was a serial womanizer, an abuser and a racist. That man you booed? He donated to charity, signed autographs for every person in every airport who ever asked. And that guy you didn’t give a shit about? He worked harder than anyone to get just a little bit of recognition…”
So!? It doesn’t matter who they were outside of that squared circle! It mattered who they were in that ring, in front of that camera, in front of all those fans who paid to cast their judgment! No one is fucking perfect all of the time. No one. Not even God himself. People slip, they stumble, you’ve slipped a lot yourself but look at you now…
Look at you now.
”What’s worse? You judge everyone but yourself…”
BAH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! You judge yourself all the goddamn time! Now you know this guy got his PHD from a cracker jack box!
”You're unable to look at the man in the mirror and pass the same judgment you threw at Pax Stormcrow or James Gilmore or Nick Danger. Two of those men you claim to call friends…”
Well yeah, of course they’re your friends. Friends just need tough love sometimes. Even friends who are stupid fucking idiots who don’t belong anywhere near you in a professional setting. Even those friends. Because… Well… If you tell them like you think it is then they will definitely take those insulting words to heart and become the men you demand them to be.
Because that’s what friends do.
”You should point that surgically reconstructed finger back yourself sometime, Nick…”
Yeah and point to the only goddamn man in this goddamn industry trying to do the right goddamn thing!
”And ask yourself what you’ve given back?”
UH! FUCKING EVERYTHING NUMBNUT! Like blood and sweat and tears and broken bones and sleepless nights and like everything you can possibly give! What else is there to give, huh!? The smart guy in the room should tell you! Because the way you see it there is literally nothing else you can give!
”Who have you trained? Who have you helped? Who have you instructed to avoid the same pitfalls you once fell into? What has Nick Knight given back to the world that has given him so much?”
A fucking nuff.
”You claim I’m too powerful, that I throw my weight around, that somehow I have led us down a dark path but… I ask you to point to examples. Who have I used my great power to hold back? When have I used my immense sway to get ahead on the cards? When have I ever encouraged anyone to do the things I do in recent memory?”
In recent memory? Nice caveat, asshole.
”The fact of the matter is you can’t. If I were the great and powerful Wizard of Oz you claim me to be then Dean Harper wouldn’t be World Champion. Wraith wouldn’t hold a win over me. I’d clearly be dominating in the Heir to the Throne. In fact, if I were so incredibly powerful behind the scenes and so poisoned with that power I’d probably be on year ten of the most incredible World Championship run this world has ever known…”
Yeah but like, that’s ignoring the facts. This fucker burnt some other fuckers gym down! And sure, it was funny, you laughed and that fucker absolutely deserved it! But you’d have never done anything like that… Besides that one time you did. But you were a different person then! Hopped up on pills and drink! So it’s like you didn’t actually do it. It was that other guy who lives deep inside your mind. And that guy sucks.
”And if I were the tyrant you paint me as? Matt Knox certainly wouldn’t be working for the IWF…”
Fair.
”I’ve never claimed to be a good person. I do terrible things to terrible people. I’ve never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. But on the same token? I will never ask anyone to follow me down this path. I know you come from a background similar to my own. A broken home. A poor father figure. You learned to fight long before it was necessary because it was necessary…”
This stupid motherfucker doesn’t know a goddamn thing about you.
”You live a life filled with regrets. Everyday you wake up thinking about things you wish you could change. Everyday you go to sleep thinking about how you could have done things differently. You have selected moments from your memory that play on an endless loop just wishing you did or said something different. Playing them out in your mind like made for TV movies…”
“Maybe you didn’t yell at her…”
“Maybe you didn’t raise your fist…”
“Maybe you just admitted you were wrong that one time…”
“And maybe she would still be here…”
“Maybe life wouldn’t have gone the way it did…”
“Maybe you’d be happy instead of pretending you are…”
“I know all about it, Nick, because I live the same life. Do you think I wanted to be this? Do you think it was my goal to be universally hated and mocked? Do you think the first time I stepped into a ring it was with the desire of being the most divisive being in the history of the world?”
Yeah, probably. He’s so full of his own ego he’s dry drowning.
”I couldn’t help myself just like you couldn’t help yourself. I did dark things for my own entertainment just like you. I was broken like you’re broken now. I refused help for so long that ultimately there was no one left to offer me help…”
“It was in that darkness I found myself again…”
“I found Dean…”
“I found a way back from the darkness with him leading the way…”
“And now when those regrets creep into my mind I remind myself that without those past actions I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t have my family, I wouldn’t have my kids, my grandson, I wouldn’t have Tara back at my side…”
“The fabled one who got away…”
“You hate me for all the wrong reasons, Nick. You hate me not because of what I’m doing to this business. You hate me because I have done the one thing you could never do…”
“I moved beyond myself…”
You’re not listening to this bullshit because that’s all it is, bullshit. This guy just likes to hear the sound of his voice and you’re a captive audience. Well fuck him, he doesn’t know a goddamn thing about you and never will. He doesn’t know what goes on inside this head. He doesn’t know what you think about. And he certainly doesn’t know about your past. He’s just another asshole in a long line of assholes giving another shoddy diagnostic while you’re strapped to a fucking bed.
”That’s why you’re stuck…”
No, you’re stuck because this c***sucker strapped you to a bed.
”I said you lack conviction and I meant it but you took the wrong insult from that observation. You lack conviction in why you do this…”
“Why you fight…”
“You say it’s to stop people like me because it gets a pop from the crowd but you don’t mean it. If you meant it you would have ended my reign before Dean did. If you meant it we would have never needed a best of five series. If you truly had conviction then there wouldn’t even be a question as to who is the better between us…”
“You say things that hold no real meaning…”
“You speak in generalities…”
“Painting everyone with the same brush…”
“And hope that your penchant for violence is enough to make what you say the truth but it never is…”
“How long have you been doing this, Nick? How long have you been fighting? And what has all that so-called conviction brought you? What victories? What triumphs? What change? You started a revolution and the best you could muster was a paltry award. My shelves are literally overflowing with them…”
“I believe in what I do…”
“More than that…”
“I trust in it…”
“I trust that the path I currently walk is what's best for me and mine. I trust that when it’s all said and done I will go down in history as the best to ever do it. I trust that there is no one in the past or the future who can match my skill, talent, longevity or the legacy I will leave when it’s over…”
“I trust in myself…”
Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. You don’t care and in fact? You stopped listening so suck on that dickhead!
”You may not like how I think or how I feel but that doesn’t make you right. Just like my opinion doesn’t make me right. In the end? I know I will still be here doing what I do better than anyone else while you sit at home hopped up on anti-psychotics, antidepressants and painkillers with a drink to wash them all down still regretting every single misstep you ever made…”
“Alone…”
“With only that crooked index finger…”
“And no one left to point at but the man in the mirror…”
All you wanted was that goddamn spoon…
”I live for this…”
“What about you?”
It’s just another day in a padded cell.
You reposition yourself so you can squat to your feet. There isn’t anywhere to go, they haven’t opened the padded door yet but you feel like standing. Twenty three and a half hours is a lot of time to spend in a ten by ten room and sometimes you need to stretch your legs. You begin your first lap of the tiny room. The lights are on so breakfast is on its way. You wonder what they’ll be bringing today.
A fat stack of pancakes with all the syrup Vermont has to offer would be nice but more than likely it’ll be something they call oatmeal. Grey and flavorless. They can’t risk you trying to unalive yourself on something as lavish as a pancake or use a plastic butterknife to sever an artery.
You laugh at the thought. A plastic knife? They can barely even cut the pancakes let alone saw through your battle hardened flesh. Hell, at your height? Barbed wire barely cut your skin. But hey? Those are the rules.
You complete your second lap. Food should almost be here. You greedily hope they give you a spoon today. The good Doctor said you could have one if you behaved and you’ve been nothing but an Angel for weeks.
You're suddenly startled with excitement as the little metal box slides into the room. Your eyes dart hoping to see that steaming bowl with its plastic spoon but your heart drops deep into your chest.
Dry toast.
And a plastic cup of milk with no straw.
They still don’t trust you to use your hands even though you’ve been so good. You’ve followed all the rules. You’ve played nice with the other patients. Why? It’s been months since you so much as uttered a curse word let alone body slammed someone through a folding table.
YOU DESERVE A SPOON!!!
You rage despite your arms being trapped, they crisscross in front of you like a contained tornado. Your shoulders furiously move from side to side as you try to break free of the straight jacket but there isn’t any give. You viciously kick at the metal slide out tray with your bare foot, sending the toast and milk flying into the air. Your foot pangs with pain but that is nothing compared to what you know is coming next.
The orderlies.
You back yourself up into a corner, ready to fight, you know they are coming now. All you wanted was a goddamn spoon, a little goddamn respect and maybe a flapjack!
The door is suddenly flung open as the men in white come rushing in. They’ve learned from previous encounters, there’s ten of them this time. Nine to force you down to the padded floor and one to administer the drugs.
You fade back into that sweet, sweet darkness.
You just wanted a spoon…
”Oh Nick…”
Your eyes shoot open.
”You never learn, do you?”
You try to turn your head but find that it is strapped down at the forehead. Your upper body is too despite the straight jacket that still confines you and of course each of your ankles is tied down to the bed you find yourself in. At least the bed has a mattress instead of being just a slab of steel, they’re probably afraid you’d find a way to cave your own head in on steel.
”After everything we’ve been through together you still think you can win?”
You close your eyes tight, you refuse to listen to him. Not again. He promised you a spoon and all he gave you was toast. Fuck him!
”I know you know the definition of insanity…”
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. You’ve heard it from every quack from here to Tokyo! What the hell do they know anyways! PHDs!? That’s just a piece of paper. They don’t live in your head!
”And yet you continue walking down the same path, saying the same things, never seeing that this little war you’re waging is futile…”
Futile!? You’re trying to change the world for the better! There’s nothing futile about that! You either change it or you die as a martyr for the cause! Both options sound pretty goddamn good to you. But of course he’d say it’s futile sitting atop his golden throne surrounded by yes-men and subservient bitches who feed his ego.
”I know somewhere inside you, you understand…”
Understand what!? That people like him are what’s killing the world!? Yeah, you understand! You understand all too damn well. It’s everyone else who doesn’t understand! All those idiots who worship this guy like a god based on his miles long list of accomplishments. Well you’re not going to fall for it. Not you. This deceiver can spit his lies with a silver tongue all damn day long, you won’t fall in line.
”You just refuse to admit you’re wrong…”
Wrong about what!? Wrong about all the whores in the world!? Selling their bodies for money and fame while you toiled away in dirty bars and crumbling high schools honing your craft!!! They should aspire to be like you! They should respect you! They should have just given you that goddamn spoon!
”About literally everything…”
HMPF!!! Yeah, I bet he feels that way while he sits in that comfy chair and judges you. And who the hell is he to judge you anyway!? He’s just another schmuck, another idiot, another brain dead moron feeding into the slow murder of something you love so much! It's this fucking idiot who needs to open his eyes and see the truth.
”You see the world as black and white. Good and bad. You refuse to acknowledge the nuance…”
The nuance!? The nuance of what!? Assholes going out of their way to feed their selfish ego!? Fuck that! You aren’t about to feed into that bullshit! Not you! Not now! Not ever! You don’t care how long they try and keep you locked up, you will get out, you will get back to work and you will change this world or die trying.
”Besides, shaping the world into what you think is just through force is the definition of tyranny, you hate tyranny…”
...
”You think it is people like me, my family, the ones we associate with both as friend and foe who are leading the charge toward the slow death of our industry. But what if I told you it was people like you?”
Now who’s the psychopath who belongs in a padded cell!? This guy is quackier than a than a duck swimming in the Hudson River with three eyes, five wings and both sets of genitals!
”You refuse to grow. You refuse to change. You refuse to embrace the future. You see our sport through the eyes of the child who fell in love with it. The world has moved forward and so must you…”
Fuck the world! The world is a fucking cesspool of sycophants and degenerates too worried about getting a million likes on X or Twitter or whatever the fuck it’s called! They don’t care about things like you do! They don’t feel about things the way you do! They can’t see a goddamn thing beyond their own reflection!
”But you're stuck. As if your feet were made of cinder-blocks and your arms were chained to the ground…”
Yeah well someone has to stand up for what's best for the world, right!?
”You live in a past that never existed. A world of super heroes and super villains. People in white hats. People in dark hats. When in fact there have never been good guys or bad guys. That man you cheered for as a child was a serial womanizer, an abuser and a racist. That man you booed? He donated to charity, signed autographs for every person in every airport who ever asked. And that guy you didn’t give a shit about? He worked harder than anyone to get just a little bit of recognition…”
So!? It doesn’t matter who they were outside of that squared circle! It mattered who they were in that ring, in front of that camera, in front of all those fans who paid to cast their judgment! No one is fucking perfect all of the time. No one. Not even God himself. People slip, they stumble, you’ve slipped a lot yourself but look at you now…
Look at you now.
”What’s worse? You judge everyone but yourself…”
BAH! HAHAHAHAHAHA! You judge yourself all the goddamn time! Now you know this guy got his PHD from a cracker jack box!
”You're unable to look at the man in the mirror and pass the same judgment you threw at Pax Stormcrow or James Gilmore or Nick Danger. Two of those men you claim to call friends…”
Well yeah, of course they’re your friends. Friends just need tough love sometimes. Even friends who are stupid fucking idiots who don’t belong anywhere near you in a professional setting. Even those friends. Because… Well… If you tell them like you think it is then they will definitely take those insulting words to heart and become the men you demand them to be.
Because that’s what friends do.
”You should point that surgically reconstructed finger back yourself sometime, Nick…”
Yeah and point to the only goddamn man in this goddamn industry trying to do the right goddamn thing!
”And ask yourself what you’ve given back?”
UH! FUCKING EVERYTHING NUMBNUT! Like blood and sweat and tears and broken bones and sleepless nights and like everything you can possibly give! What else is there to give, huh!? The smart guy in the room should tell you! Because the way you see it there is literally nothing else you can give!
”Who have you trained? Who have you helped? Who have you instructed to avoid the same pitfalls you once fell into? What has Nick Knight given back to the world that has given him so much?”
A fucking nuff.
”You claim I’m too powerful, that I throw my weight around, that somehow I have led us down a dark path but… I ask you to point to examples. Who have I used my great power to hold back? When have I used my immense sway to get ahead on the cards? When have I ever encouraged anyone to do the things I do in recent memory?”
In recent memory? Nice caveat, asshole.
”The fact of the matter is you can’t. If I were the great and powerful Wizard of Oz you claim me to be then Dean Harper wouldn’t be World Champion. Wraith wouldn’t hold a win over me. I’d clearly be dominating in the Heir to the Throne. In fact, if I were so incredibly powerful behind the scenes and so poisoned with that power I’d probably be on year ten of the most incredible World Championship run this world has ever known…”
Yeah but like, that’s ignoring the facts. This fucker burnt some other fuckers gym down! And sure, it was funny, you laughed and that fucker absolutely deserved it! But you’d have never done anything like that… Besides that one time you did. But you were a different person then! Hopped up on pills and drink! So it’s like you didn’t actually do it. It was that other guy who lives deep inside your mind. And that guy sucks.
”And if I were the tyrant you paint me as? Matt Knox certainly wouldn’t be working for the IWF…”
Fair.
”I’ve never claimed to be a good person. I do terrible things to terrible people. I’ve never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. But on the same token? I will never ask anyone to follow me down this path. I know you come from a background similar to my own. A broken home. A poor father figure. You learned to fight long before it was necessary because it was necessary…”
This stupid motherfucker doesn’t know a goddamn thing about you.
”You live a life filled with regrets. Everyday you wake up thinking about things you wish you could change. Everyday you go to sleep thinking about how you could have done things differently. You have selected moments from your memory that play on an endless loop just wishing you did or said something different. Playing them out in your mind like made for TV movies…”
“Maybe you didn’t yell at her…”
“Maybe you didn’t raise your fist…”
“Maybe you just admitted you were wrong that one time…”
“And maybe she would still be here…”
“Maybe life wouldn’t have gone the way it did…”
“Maybe you’d be happy instead of pretending you are…”
“I know all about it, Nick, because I live the same life. Do you think I wanted to be this? Do you think it was my goal to be universally hated and mocked? Do you think the first time I stepped into a ring it was with the desire of being the most divisive being in the history of the world?”
Yeah, probably. He’s so full of his own ego he’s dry drowning.
”I couldn’t help myself just like you couldn’t help yourself. I did dark things for my own entertainment just like you. I was broken like you’re broken now. I refused help for so long that ultimately there was no one left to offer me help…”
“It was in that darkness I found myself again…”
“I found Dean…”
“I found a way back from the darkness with him leading the way…”
“And now when those regrets creep into my mind I remind myself that without those past actions I wouldn’t be where I am now. I wouldn’t have my family, I wouldn’t have my kids, my grandson, I wouldn’t have Tara back at my side…”
“The fabled one who got away…”
“You hate me for all the wrong reasons, Nick. You hate me not because of what I’m doing to this business. You hate me because I have done the one thing you could never do…”
“I moved beyond myself…”
You’re not listening to this bullshit because that’s all it is, bullshit. This guy just likes to hear the sound of his voice and you’re a captive audience. Well fuck him, he doesn’t know a goddamn thing about you and never will. He doesn’t know what goes on inside this head. He doesn’t know what you think about. And he certainly doesn’t know about your past. He’s just another asshole in a long line of assholes giving another shoddy diagnostic while you’re strapped to a fucking bed.
”That’s why you’re stuck…”
No, you’re stuck because this c***sucker strapped you to a bed.
”I said you lack conviction and I meant it but you took the wrong insult from that observation. You lack conviction in why you do this…”
“Why you fight…”
“You say it’s to stop people like me because it gets a pop from the crowd but you don’t mean it. If you meant it you would have ended my reign before Dean did. If you meant it we would have never needed a best of five series. If you truly had conviction then there wouldn’t even be a question as to who is the better between us…”
“You say things that hold no real meaning…”
“You speak in generalities…”
“Painting everyone with the same brush…”
“And hope that your penchant for violence is enough to make what you say the truth but it never is…”
“How long have you been doing this, Nick? How long have you been fighting? And what has all that so-called conviction brought you? What victories? What triumphs? What change? You started a revolution and the best you could muster was a paltry award. My shelves are literally overflowing with them…”
“I believe in what I do…”
“More than that…”
“I trust in it…”
“I trust that the path I currently walk is what's best for me and mine. I trust that when it’s all said and done I will go down in history as the best to ever do it. I trust that there is no one in the past or the future who can match my skill, talent, longevity or the legacy I will leave when it’s over…”
“I trust in myself…”
Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. You don’t care and in fact? You stopped listening so suck on that dickhead!
”You may not like how I think or how I feel but that doesn’t make you right. Just like my opinion doesn’t make me right. In the end? I know I will still be here doing what I do better than anyone else while you sit at home hopped up on anti-psychotics, antidepressants and painkillers with a drink to wash them all down still regretting every single misstep you ever made…”
“Alone…”
“With only that crooked index finger…”
“And no one left to point at but the man in the mirror…”
All you wanted was that goddamn spoon…
”I live for this…”
“What about you?”
If you don't live for something you'll die for nothing.
What we have are not possessions we own
It's not weighed by greed or personal gain
This is real a desire for freedom.
A place apart from a world in abandon.
What we have are not possessions we own
It's not weighed by greed or personal gain
This is real a desire for freedom.
A place apart from a world in abandon.
Well howdy there pardner.