Post by Alioth Starre on Aug 24, 2014 3:05:09 GMT
“Everything has said been before, nothing left to say anymore. So, let us entertain you.” - Marilyn Manson.
Evel can evil jump track, bear backed, and suffocate in the attack? Waltz in to my name, I am all of the rage without the page or the cage to succumb to your plague. I’m not of this scene, so it doesn’t matter to me, so, can’t you see? I don’t care what you, or anybody says about me, for if I stay or leave, this place and your face won’t even fall like leaves from the tree of life; no trace. We’re going down, down, down to town.
Versace wore everything we tore to bang, looking good in slang, oral goosebumps from the fang of a mid-town girl that knows how to hang. Roll your tongue like a moist cigar, down, down, we go we know, but this show is nothing till’ you show something, oh, it’s like a need to feed on a rhyming disease, miss that beat and you’re going to bleed.
Because, no one really gives a hit, if you want to censor it. Force to play your games today, tomorrow, and every day. Like buzz-doll bees bionic machines, slaving away to write out these hip rock-tone camera scenes, but I’m not of you, or these. “Are you one of us?”
I’ve transcended word endings. I am overground and out selling it. Since your god doesn’t exist, I can be per minute. Please, give me your middle finger, and I’ll fly it with an American war drone. They know how to hate, write things that we can rate, or the smile off your face. What you need is a little black collar, am I wrong? Blue was never my color and I was never one for fists. Never was.
Say what you want if you want to say, but everything you do is ignorance portrayed by your willful mind, shadowed and blind, I am the rhyme. Your words are like dissonance dissing ants beneath your feet, we are the crumbs like the rebels before the fleet. The saber is red, but its light is now dead, so we still swing and hit and miss, and swear, and piss. We aim to impress, the impression at best is just idiots saying what they want, but filth is all that I hear. The fits of ditz.
I don’t care what you think, I perform what I will. I’m not a wrestler like you, if you can call your soap opera a maneuver, but I’m a mover. Put a bar in my nostril, some black on my eyes, the stage is waiting for my girls and my guys. Say what you will it’s full of ignorance. You do not know me, I do not care to know you, or anyone here, just to show up up and perform and leave. I may as well sing, la-la, la-la, la-la-la-lao, cause what you sing blah-blah-blah-blah-blows.
For this I’ll get an F or a C, the others already got the K too. But we can’t have this match without a little bitch like U. What you think I say is nothing I say, all these lyrics and heretics is just a play, because I’m too perfect for someone like you. Drop the beat at your feet, open the door and I retreat. I’m not in it to win it, just here to cause fear. My words are my art and my life, as long as you hear. So, what’s my name? Hold the S, as in tar.
-
Clinton, it’s time to do it with you, but I won’t do it to you. We won’t say no, just say now. For one, I’ve made a big rock and roll hit, but for you, I only have scores.
Standing alone the Peony Pavilion under a warm, sunny Chinese sun, we see the settling in of visions and dreams. The beautiful lotus floats on the surface like the dreams in our minds. I dreamt of a free festival to the hungry ghosts of China and with it, I was taken with them. The coins and food we feed to help us move on and become what we ghosts need to become. Dot my tablet and everything is well, but without it, I shall be forced to travel the world a vacant visual of the fears of the serfs and nobles.
I am a crouching tiger within a forest of bamboo. I do not know very much about you, for I do not understand my prey as the tiger does. My paws listen to the earth, and my eyes survey the forest ahead of me under the light of the pavilion’s fireflies at night. They dance over the lotus and through bamboo, but I follow them not, do you? Still, like the tiger, I hide, and I find my prey and strike with the results I desire. I have young to feed, Clinton, the youth of my desires. I desire little, though, just to come in, strike hard, and to dissipate like the hungry ghost only to wait until the next festival when I am to be fed again.
Your super show does not impress me and I would never pay per view when I can see everything well in advanced. I see that my actions have a cause and effect, and a duality that echoes through the silk worm sheets of the multiverse. We hold it high in the red sun to let the wrinkles out and straight out upon the string line we set course. I will let the dew drop from the balls of the raccoon dog. That is to say, that fate shall play a loose hand in this.
What little I know of you means little to me. All I truly need to know is what I will know in the ring. When we are together in this elegance bonsai dance, not unlike the dance of clouds and rain, I will understand who you are and why you are here. Unlike clouds and rain, however, there will be nothing born from our contempt and contention. Our hearts will merely beat like the taiko drums, beating until one is faded out in favor of the other. Fortunately, however, for me, there are three other drums in our festival of hungry ghosts that I watch from my pavilion under the sun through blossoms and bamboo leaves. Silken dreams external and extremes. Four men play war games, but only one will seize the moment like the crouching tiger within the hidden forest. One will be the raccoon dog, one the dragon, one the tiger, and the other the grasshopper. May the best one of these beasts become the one that is given the final feast in the end of the night. This celebration is for us all, Cliff-san, and as men without bound feet, we are free to roam as we please. I did not choose this, but I choose my words, and that is my paint brush. I craft them so elegantly that you could say it is like my very own beautiful, secretive Nushu.
-
John Tolly. His name is definitely no liberation front. I feel quite confronted when hearing it though, partner. John is a classic prefix to the perfect surname. Beneath the crown of a name is a man, or woman that is truly defined. I believe that we are not truly described by the names our parents made, because that is what they liked, and not truly who we are. Our names should be made by the individuals themselves because we know who we are, and even when we don’t, we know what sounds like us. I obliterated my original name for one that was truly me, but I can see yours is in flux.
I feel that you, by your very name, do not understand who you are and what you really want. I can tell by the horrible name of John Tolly. John Tolly. Why Tolly? It does not make any true sense to be named Tolly. It doesn’t roll off the tongue, and if you roll a D-20, it would land on a one. Alioth Starre is perfect because it describes itself and transcends itself. Cliff Clinton is generic, like a lumberjack, but it gives you that visual. He presents himself as a generic personality that is nothing more than just some weird, hairy dude that has no place in higher sentience. It is perfect for him. Even Kevin Evel has some semblance of decency, because you can make fun of it. If not, it still sounds like a name some mundane guy would have. A mundane man with no real chance at anything other than mundanity.
In recap, Evel is mundane and not going any further than old spice. Cliff Clinton has no chance because he’s just a broken log in a forest of stumps. I’m like Josie in vacation far away with so many things I want to say, but those girls are just a little bit older. My voice is aged like the stars, and as bizarre, with rhymes on time, and that’s fine. I’m a underused, formerly abused. A past of mystery, but I’m here and John, my words are my art. My words show you the galaxies that comprise the surface you need to see. John Tolly just makes me think you made a bad pun, trying to use the name Tully without blatantly referencing ‘Game of Thrones’. There are stark similarities to the name and the one with actual fame.
So, let’s go there, then. The Tully’s are nothing but a shadow in the world of Game of Thrones, much like you are. In the ring, you’re not really impressive. You’ve got a blank look, despite having the better appearance than our other opponents, but I am the better of all. So, I’m on the hunt and I’m after you. Hungry like the wolf. A fistful of sublime, the two of us will eclipse this dance. The lights above, a crowd of shifting heads, and two others no one notices, but that’s fine. They can play, we will stay, someone with the looks versus someone with the name. Too bad you can’t speak like Evel, sway like Cliff, and play like me. I’d be very interesting in hearing what you have to say, because though your name is broken, broken things intrigue me, and I’m hungry like the wolf.
I would wish you luck in our endeavor, but I’ve got the brains and the looks, so when I have the whole package, then there is no need for you, or anyone of you other three fools. So, I am the better fool.
-
It’s funny, isn’t it? Time passes on, but we believe changes, or that nothing changes. We’re so caught up in our own social civilization to realize that it is both and not. You could take on me; take me on. However, I am merely a blip on the radar of time. Here today, gone tomorrow, but tomorrow is a vast infinity, whereas yesterday is only ten years ago. We always believe that ten years ago was when we were younger, but when we stop moving and look back, then look forward, we realize just how far gone we are. Time only feels like a day or two. So, needless to say, don’t let it way and this fight is okay.
It’s funny, isn’t it? Time passes on, but we believe changes, or that nothing changes. We’re so caught up in our own social civilization to realize that it is both and not. You could take on me; take me on. However, I am merely a blip on the radar of time. Here today, gone tomorrow, but tomorrow is a vast infinity, whereas yesterday is only ten years ago. We always believe that ten years ago was when we were younger, but when we stop moving and look back, then look forward, we realize just how far gone we are. Time only feels like a day or two. So, needless to say, don’t let it way and this fight is okay.
That’s what I am truly here for. I’m not here to play your silly war games, because I don’t care about your stupid dead lines. These are our dance hall days, like babies taken by the hands. Our parents were us before, but now they’re old and you have children just like them. I’m here to break that form, to show that you don’t have to follow the norm. The passage of time repeats itself whether humans are on the earth aware or not. I am self-aware and sentient. I take life by the bloody wrist with a mouth full of pink and amethyst. We can dance all night, but everyone else is dancing too. Walk out, people, see the stars and become like me.
I come to feed you art through words to inspire you and show you that what we do is not just a physical craft, but a beautiful world of art and something to cherish even more. It’s easy to throw away concepts and follow the footsteps you found carved in the snow, but to forge your own and to also realize what you are forging is something else entirely. Everyone else has done what you have done before you ever thought it was original to do it. You’re not an innovator until you’ve invented something, and someone no one else has ever seen. This is how decades are shaped and memorable. When you think of the 80s, who do you think of? David Bowie? Michael Jackson? They gave us something different, that broke the norm and we remember them as innovators. The best thing to do is to acknowledge what they’ve done, but not to do as they did. Do something different and show everyone in the ring and in the crowd that you are the next big thing. You are the newest decade.
So, since you know partially about me and my goals here, though I am not finished imparting my final words, I’d like to let it be known I also have no interest in knowing any of you. I don’t care what you say, because I will not listen to it. It is not ignorance, it is just that all I hear from everyone else is dissonance and to listen to others means I will falter from my own wavelength. I move to my own beat and make my own music. I refuse to stop and be distorted by the contortions and mistakes of others. In a way, we’re all like this. Though we are seven billion in a world, we walk it completely alone. We’re only human, and not even that, but lifeforms hidden within the confines of our own brains.
You cannot touch any inch of my body. It is a shell that walks to the flow of my mind, separate from all of you. I am the guitar and you are the dirt.
-
In the finality of all things, my dears, this match and this show is not important to me. It should not even be important to any of you. It is just one day and one night of an entire ceaselessly moving cosmos that does not see time and does not comprehend the vastness of its own space. The stars are born, grow, and wither, but they do not die, for we do not either. We, like the stars simply wither until the light fades and all that is left is our neutral mass. Something to bury, but never forget. The ripples we cause reach the far reaches of our social constructs. The world feels when we are buried and the world knows when we are born again. I will be born again as I was when I walked through the light in the valley of this place, though it means nothing to me now. The impact I make here is not a selfish journey, but one I wish to make on you, my opponents. I am a legend and have accomplished more than you ever will, and wish to impart that greatness upon you to show you that you don’t have to say what everyone else is saying just to appear as if you’re better. Sometimes, you just have to actually be better than everyone else. I achieve that by being myself, and I am different than all of the capsules and mechanical animals that dot the skies of our wrestling community. Everything I am, is everything you can one day say you were, but know that I did it before you.
No one has done what I have, and no one will do what I’m about to. My journey isn’t over and my selfishness is only toned down. I will become greatness once again for myself rather than to push others in the right direction. When I decide to reactivate and become more than just a neutron star, I will overcome you all. Not just the three I compete against, but all of you.
Adolf Hitler did what everyone else before him did, just as that fool Gandhi and the criminal known as Mother Theresa. They were the same individuals throughout time because worked under the same privilege set in stone for them. I make my own shapes to shape my own world and when I see others try to be me, well, you can stand in the line like all the rest. Now, do you know what I mean?
I never stay the same, not as long as you have less to say. You really think that I wouldn’t play if I had nothing to say? You know that I play this better than you.
I don’t need to build a legacy for I am already a legend. I am the pillar to build your legacy from, but you will never overcome the only one to shine brighter than all of the fighters.
“All propaganda has to be popular and has to accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those whom it seeks to reach.” - Adolf Hitler.
Evel can evil jump track, bear backed, and suffocate in the attack? Waltz in to my name, I am all of the rage without the page or the cage to succumb to your plague. I’m not of this scene, so it doesn’t matter to me, so, can’t you see? I don’t care what you, or anybody says about me, for if I stay or leave, this place and your face won’t even fall like leaves from the tree of life; no trace. We’re going down, down, down to town.
Versace wore everything we tore to bang, looking good in slang, oral goosebumps from the fang of a mid-town girl that knows how to hang. Roll your tongue like a moist cigar, down, down, we go we know, but this show is nothing till’ you show something, oh, it’s like a need to feed on a rhyming disease, miss that beat and you’re going to bleed.
Because, no one really gives a hit, if you want to censor it. Force to play your games today, tomorrow, and every day. Like buzz-doll bees bionic machines, slaving away to write out these hip rock-tone camera scenes, but I’m not of you, or these. “Are you one of us?”
I’ve transcended word endings. I am overground and out selling it. Since your god doesn’t exist, I can be per minute. Please, give me your middle finger, and I’ll fly it with an American war drone. They know how to hate, write things that we can rate, or the smile off your face. What you need is a little black collar, am I wrong? Blue was never my color and I was never one for fists. Never was.
Say what you want if you want to say, but everything you do is ignorance portrayed by your willful mind, shadowed and blind, I am the rhyme. Your words are like dissonance dissing ants beneath your feet, we are the crumbs like the rebels before the fleet. The saber is red, but its light is now dead, so we still swing and hit and miss, and swear, and piss. We aim to impress, the impression at best is just idiots saying what they want, but filth is all that I hear. The fits of ditz.
I don’t care what you think, I perform what I will. I’m not a wrestler like you, if you can call your soap opera a maneuver, but I’m a mover. Put a bar in my nostril, some black on my eyes, the stage is waiting for my girls and my guys. Say what you will it’s full of ignorance. You do not know me, I do not care to know you, or anyone here, just to show up up and perform and leave. I may as well sing, la-la, la-la, la-la-la-lao, cause what you sing blah-blah-blah-blah-blows.
For this I’ll get an F or a C, the others already got the K too. But we can’t have this match without a little bitch like U. What you think I say is nothing I say, all these lyrics and heretics is just a play, because I’m too perfect for someone like you. Drop the beat at your feet, open the door and I retreat. I’m not in it to win it, just here to cause fear. My words are my art and my life, as long as you hear. So, what’s my name? Hold the S, as in tar.
-
Clinton, it’s time to do it with you, but I won’t do it to you. We won’t say no, just say now. For one, I’ve made a big rock and roll hit, but for you, I only have scores.
Standing alone the Peony Pavilion under a warm, sunny Chinese sun, we see the settling in of visions and dreams. The beautiful lotus floats on the surface like the dreams in our minds. I dreamt of a free festival to the hungry ghosts of China and with it, I was taken with them. The coins and food we feed to help us move on and become what we ghosts need to become. Dot my tablet and everything is well, but without it, I shall be forced to travel the world a vacant visual of the fears of the serfs and nobles.
I am a crouching tiger within a forest of bamboo. I do not know very much about you, for I do not understand my prey as the tiger does. My paws listen to the earth, and my eyes survey the forest ahead of me under the light of the pavilion’s fireflies at night. They dance over the lotus and through bamboo, but I follow them not, do you? Still, like the tiger, I hide, and I find my prey and strike with the results I desire. I have young to feed, Clinton, the youth of my desires. I desire little, though, just to come in, strike hard, and to dissipate like the hungry ghost only to wait until the next festival when I am to be fed again.
Your super show does not impress me and I would never pay per view when I can see everything well in advanced. I see that my actions have a cause and effect, and a duality that echoes through the silk worm sheets of the multiverse. We hold it high in the red sun to let the wrinkles out and straight out upon the string line we set course. I will let the dew drop from the balls of the raccoon dog. That is to say, that fate shall play a loose hand in this.
What little I know of you means little to me. All I truly need to know is what I will know in the ring. When we are together in this elegance bonsai dance, not unlike the dance of clouds and rain, I will understand who you are and why you are here. Unlike clouds and rain, however, there will be nothing born from our contempt and contention. Our hearts will merely beat like the taiko drums, beating until one is faded out in favor of the other. Fortunately, however, for me, there are three other drums in our festival of hungry ghosts that I watch from my pavilion under the sun through blossoms and bamboo leaves. Silken dreams external and extremes. Four men play war games, but only one will seize the moment like the crouching tiger within the hidden forest. One will be the raccoon dog, one the dragon, one the tiger, and the other the grasshopper. May the best one of these beasts become the one that is given the final feast in the end of the night. This celebration is for us all, Cliff-san, and as men without bound feet, we are free to roam as we please. I did not choose this, but I choose my words, and that is my paint brush. I craft them so elegantly that you could say it is like my very own beautiful, secretive Nushu.
-
John Tolly. His name is definitely no liberation front. I feel quite confronted when hearing it though, partner. John is a classic prefix to the perfect surname. Beneath the crown of a name is a man, or woman that is truly defined. I believe that we are not truly described by the names our parents made, because that is what they liked, and not truly who we are. Our names should be made by the individuals themselves because we know who we are, and even when we don’t, we know what sounds like us. I obliterated my original name for one that was truly me, but I can see yours is in flux.
I feel that you, by your very name, do not understand who you are and what you really want. I can tell by the horrible name of John Tolly. John Tolly. Why Tolly? It does not make any true sense to be named Tolly. It doesn’t roll off the tongue, and if you roll a D-20, it would land on a one. Alioth Starre is perfect because it describes itself and transcends itself. Cliff Clinton is generic, like a lumberjack, but it gives you that visual. He presents himself as a generic personality that is nothing more than just some weird, hairy dude that has no place in higher sentience. It is perfect for him. Even Kevin Evel has some semblance of decency, because you can make fun of it. If not, it still sounds like a name some mundane guy would have. A mundane man with no real chance at anything other than mundanity.
In recap, Evel is mundane and not going any further than old spice. Cliff Clinton has no chance because he’s just a broken log in a forest of stumps. I’m like Josie in vacation far away with so many things I want to say, but those girls are just a little bit older. My voice is aged like the stars, and as bizarre, with rhymes on time, and that’s fine. I’m a underused, formerly abused. A past of mystery, but I’m here and John, my words are my art. My words show you the galaxies that comprise the surface you need to see. John Tolly just makes me think you made a bad pun, trying to use the name Tully without blatantly referencing ‘Game of Thrones’. There are stark similarities to the name and the one with actual fame.
So, let’s go there, then. The Tully’s are nothing but a shadow in the world of Game of Thrones, much like you are. In the ring, you’re not really impressive. You’ve got a blank look, despite having the better appearance than our other opponents, but I am the better of all. So, I’m on the hunt and I’m after you. Hungry like the wolf. A fistful of sublime, the two of us will eclipse this dance. The lights above, a crowd of shifting heads, and two others no one notices, but that’s fine. They can play, we will stay, someone with the looks versus someone with the name. Too bad you can’t speak like Evel, sway like Cliff, and play like me. I’d be very interesting in hearing what you have to say, because though your name is broken, broken things intrigue me, and I’m hungry like the wolf.
I would wish you luck in our endeavor, but I’ve got the brains and the looks, so when I have the whole package, then there is no need for you, or anyone of you other three fools. So, I am the better fool.
-
It’s funny, isn’t it? Time passes on, but we believe changes, or that nothing changes. We’re so caught up in our own social civilization to realize that it is both and not. You could take on me; take me on. However, I am merely a blip on the radar of time. Here today, gone tomorrow, but tomorrow is a vast infinity, whereas yesterday is only ten years ago. We always believe that ten years ago was when we were younger, but when we stop moving and look back, then look forward, we realize just how far gone we are. Time only feels like a day or two. So, needless to say, don’t let it way and this fight is okay.
It’s funny, isn’t it? Time passes on, but we believe changes, or that nothing changes. We’re so caught up in our own social civilization to realize that it is both and not. You could take on me; take me on. However, I am merely a blip on the radar of time. Here today, gone tomorrow, but tomorrow is a vast infinity, whereas yesterday is only ten years ago. We always believe that ten years ago was when we were younger, but when we stop moving and look back, then look forward, we realize just how far gone we are. Time only feels like a day or two. So, needless to say, don’t let it way and this fight is okay.
That’s what I am truly here for. I’m not here to play your silly war games, because I don’t care about your stupid dead lines. These are our dance hall days, like babies taken by the hands. Our parents were us before, but now they’re old and you have children just like them. I’m here to break that form, to show that you don’t have to follow the norm. The passage of time repeats itself whether humans are on the earth aware or not. I am self-aware and sentient. I take life by the bloody wrist with a mouth full of pink and amethyst. We can dance all night, but everyone else is dancing too. Walk out, people, see the stars and become like me.
I come to feed you art through words to inspire you and show you that what we do is not just a physical craft, but a beautiful world of art and something to cherish even more. It’s easy to throw away concepts and follow the footsteps you found carved in the snow, but to forge your own and to also realize what you are forging is something else entirely. Everyone else has done what you have done before you ever thought it was original to do it. You’re not an innovator until you’ve invented something, and someone no one else has ever seen. This is how decades are shaped and memorable. When you think of the 80s, who do you think of? David Bowie? Michael Jackson? They gave us something different, that broke the norm and we remember them as innovators. The best thing to do is to acknowledge what they’ve done, but not to do as they did. Do something different and show everyone in the ring and in the crowd that you are the next big thing. You are the newest decade.
So, since you know partially about me and my goals here, though I am not finished imparting my final words, I’d like to let it be known I also have no interest in knowing any of you. I don’t care what you say, because I will not listen to it. It is not ignorance, it is just that all I hear from everyone else is dissonance and to listen to others means I will falter from my own wavelength. I move to my own beat and make my own music. I refuse to stop and be distorted by the contortions and mistakes of others. In a way, we’re all like this. Though we are seven billion in a world, we walk it completely alone. We’re only human, and not even that, but lifeforms hidden within the confines of our own brains.
You cannot touch any inch of my body. It is a shell that walks to the flow of my mind, separate from all of you. I am the guitar and you are the dirt.
-
In the finality of all things, my dears, this match and this show is not important to me. It should not even be important to any of you. It is just one day and one night of an entire ceaselessly moving cosmos that does not see time and does not comprehend the vastness of its own space. The stars are born, grow, and wither, but they do not die, for we do not either. We, like the stars simply wither until the light fades and all that is left is our neutral mass. Something to bury, but never forget. The ripples we cause reach the far reaches of our social constructs. The world feels when we are buried and the world knows when we are born again. I will be born again as I was when I walked through the light in the valley of this place, though it means nothing to me now. The impact I make here is not a selfish journey, but one I wish to make on you, my opponents. I am a legend and have accomplished more than you ever will, and wish to impart that greatness upon you to show you that you don’t have to say what everyone else is saying just to appear as if you’re better. Sometimes, you just have to actually be better than everyone else. I achieve that by being myself, and I am different than all of the capsules and mechanical animals that dot the skies of our wrestling community. Everything I am, is everything you can one day say you were, but know that I did it before you.
No one has done what I have, and no one will do what I’m about to. My journey isn’t over and my selfishness is only toned down. I will become greatness once again for myself rather than to push others in the right direction. When I decide to reactivate and become more than just a neutron star, I will overcome you all. Not just the three I compete against, but all of you.
Adolf Hitler did what everyone else before him did, just as that fool Gandhi and the criminal known as Mother Theresa. They were the same individuals throughout time because worked under the same privilege set in stone for them. I make my own shapes to shape my own world and when I see others try to be me, well, you can stand in the line like all the rest. Now, do you know what I mean?
I never stay the same, not as long as you have less to say. You really think that I wouldn’t play if I had nothing to say? You know that I play this better than you.
I don’t need to build a legacy for I am already a legend. I am the pillar to build your legacy from, but you will never overcome the only one to shine brighter than all of the fighters.
“All propaganda has to be popular and has to accommodate itself to the comprehension of the least intelligent of those whom it seeks to reach.” - Adolf Hitler.
Well howdy there pardner.