Post by Awesome Stick Labor on Mar 18, 2017 4:13:12 GMT
Chapter XII
"EPILOGUE, PART I ~ THE GIFT"
"EPILOGUE, PART I ~ THE GIFT"
October 8, 2016 - 3:30 PM (Day 13)
Inside his stateroom...
...we find Johnny Gillmen slowly walking about, placing articles of clothing into his rolling luggage bag, which was gently placed on the floor next to the desk. It was the last full day of the 14-day Caribbean voyage that saw him travel to new and exotic lands, encountering friends and even learning how to fall in love again. Yet as his cruise was about to come to an end, he felt a sense of melcholy that echoed within his soul.
He was dumped by a spiteful German, a woman he tried to help with her studies.
He'd lost two of his best friends and confidantes, one of whom he had known since his days on the Texas A&M-Corpus Christi campus.
As JJ poured himself a small glass of green tea, all he ever wanted to know was "why." Why did such-and-such happen, and how could he ever deal with something so negative? Yet all these thoughts, these silent, deep moments of reflection, were interrupted when he heard a knock. Gazing toward the partially-open doorway, Johnny saw his engineer friend Scotty, who greeted him with his cheery, dogged enthusiasm while carrying a small black-and-white box.
SCOTTY: 'Ey laddie!
JOHNNY GILLMEN: How're ya doin' Scotty?!
SCOTTY: Sober.
JJ beckoned Scotty to enter, and the latter did, noticing his bags on the floor--not to mention the silent ambiance of the wind breezing into the cracked-open balcony door.
SCOTTY: It's a wee bit quiet in here, don't ya think?
JOHNNY: Yeah...I'm just packin' some things up, gettin' ready to head back to work in a few days. Poured myself some green tea, do ya want some?
The Glasgowan shook his head, and Johnny took a small sip from his glass, sighing to himself as he looked down upon the crowds passing along the Harmony Boardwalk. It was at this moment in time when Scotty began to realize that, truly, not all was right with him.
JOHNNY: Honestly...I gotta go bury a couple of friends of mine...one of whom I've known seven years, since college.
Mustering a slight facepalm, the man in the Queen T-shirt plunked himself down on the chair as JJ, wearing nothing else except for a pair of blue jean shorts, sat on the bed.
SCOTTY: I can see...death has hit you hard in your life.
JOHNNY: Yeah...yeah it has. And I've seen it up close...closer than I coulda ever imagined--it was when I was with my mother two years ago. On the outside, she was lookin' great. You'd think that nothin' was wrong with her, but deep down...
JJ took a large gulp, trying not to lose his composure while remembering the hardest two weeks of his lifetime prior to the cruise.
JOHNNY: ....I saw what death was doin' to her, makin' her suffer as she was bein' robbed of the things she loved doin' the most. But in the end...I still know nothin' about copin' with it, and will never understand why it happens.
Johnny's friend nodded, fully understand what he was trying to say.
SCOTTY: Where I come from...there's a saying that goes something like this--it's not about how we die, it's how we choose to LIVE our lives that matter.
JOHNNY: They're just words, Patrick...
SCOTTY: But great words. That's how new ideas are born, that's how we bring people together...ya should try to listen to them sometime.
Scotty stood up, prompting Johnny to look him directly in the eyes.
SCOTTY: When I said hello to ya that second day at the Johnny Rockets...I thought you were just an angry, entitled lad who was cravin' for his own safe space. I didnae imagine the livin' hell ya had to deal with whilst you're tryin' to live an honest, loving life...and I was wrong. Dead wrong...and I'm sorry.
JJ didn't need to say anything else to know that his friend was truly genuine; instead, he couldn't help but eke out a wide grin. His friend held up the small gift package and handed it to him, causing Johnny to weave his head side-by-side.
SCOTTY: I got a wee l'il somethin' for ya, JJ.
JOHNNY: Ahh...no way, bub...don't worry about it.
SCOTTY: Take it...and believe me, you might learn something from it.
Johnny chuckled as Scotty turned towards the doorway to make his exit, but the latter stopped for a moment, remembering the big event on the schedule for the day.
SCOTTY: There's goin' t' be a special "last night at sea" dinner and dance, on the Royal Promenade. It's gonna be a formal, black-tie gatherin', and everyone from the crew on down's goin' t' be there. Want to go?
JOHNNY: Lemme think about, okie-dokie?
Scotty laughed before leaving the cabin, closing the door in the process. JJ sat down at the desk, alone and unsure of how to collect his thoughts. He turned his attention towards the chessboard-themed package, closed his eyes, and slowly lifted the lid. When he opened his eyes to look at what was inside, his visage changed to an expression of shock and awe. It was the perfect sized frame that would fit on any office desk, an oak-made heirloom that featured a photo in which the Islander alum himself had created and posted on Facebook using Photoshop.
JJ burst into a steady stream of water, tears flowing down his cheeks as he peered upon the image of his mother Linda, but they weren't tears of sadness and sorrow. They were tears of joy, for Johnny Gillmen began to realize that, indeed, Scotty was right--that while people mourn the loss of the ones they love, it was how the departed lived their lives that truly mattered the most.
It made me cherish life even more.
~TO BE CONTINUED~
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JOHNNY GILLMEN'S LOG
March 17, 2017 - Entry #1
'Sup dudes and dudettes?!
It's been a good, long while since I stepped inside a ring, hasn't it? I mean...shoot, last y'all saw me, I was takin' on Derek Brooks. Yet no matter how that might've turned out, back issues and all, I just wanna say...that I've been extremely blessed and fortunate to be able to do this gig in the first place. I've had lots of downs, some ups...but when it all boils down to it, I'm still tickin' for another day, still itchin' to go against the bullies and overcome the challenges I've faced on a daily basis my entire life.
But when it comes to somethin' like the IWF Roulette, I don't want this to be about myself...
...nahhh, I want this to be about US--specifically, aboutYOU...THE FANS.
On a personal level, I fully understand that some of you might be turned off or whatnot by what I'm gonna say...and ya know what, that's OK. I've heard it before...folks on the street, or on my Facebook Messenger feed, tellin' me "JJ, ya can't say this, ya can't say that, or JJ, ya come off as a bit of a dick." And like I said...it's understandable, the negative feedback that is. I'm not the first dude to publicly acknowledge it, but without that rah-rah-rahs from the critics, I wouldn't even be DOIN' this job to being with...
...after all, I'd love to feel as if I was doin' somethin' right for once.
But I also want each and every one of you--such kindred and lovin' spirits who buy into the wrestlin' gig every single day--to know EXACTLY where I come from and how I stand on certain things. After all, I can't be scared to communicate with ya, either through the Twits or otherwise. I wanna be known as someone who speaks DIRECTLY to the people who sit down and look at their TV screens every week.
There's a few l'il things that I'd like to get off my shoulders, first and foremost.
Truth be told...I remember bein' that l'il kiddo that LOVED watchin' wrestlin', seein' every battle between good and evil unfold every Friday night or Saturday mornin' in some livin' room in the heart of the Dallas-Ft. Worth area. Who was gonna come out on top? Who was gonna fall down the ladder? Those were the questions I was left askin' myself every time I turned on that TV screen at my mom's house, drinkin' a can of Pepsi and munchin' on a bowl of Classic Lay's potato chips.
As hard as it is for me to say it, I was just like you, the average fan who dreamed of somethin' BIGGER than anything else on the planet.
That's why I decided to join the IWF, 'cuz I thought it would be fun, not to mention an honor, to go against a JFK, 'Hawk, or ANYONE else for that matter. My guts told me that the competition was good, that matches were gonna be won or lost straight-up, no B.S. fairly and honestly, that I'd be able to expand upon the basic, elementary self-defense class I took at my alma mater. Yet most important of all, I wanted to be seen by the same people I used to watch the gig with, to be respected and cherished by the same common men, women, and children who worshiped the likes of Nighthawk or Spike Kane, had their likenesses on their bedroom walls, and so on.
Yet as soon as I stepped into that ring, I found myself in a position that I never dreamed I'd find myself in...
...on the outside lookin' in, starin' at the giants.
Tryin' to fit in, yet failin' miserably.
I ain't the first--and certainly not the ONLY one--to admit it, but I haven't made things easy for you guys and gals. Despite havin' the best intentions, despite me always thinkin' that I was doin' somethin' good, my focus was primarily on myself--and not what youse wanna see. That, unto itself, has hurt me more than anything else I've ever been though--moreso than blindness, moreso than the notion that I was only trained in basic self-defense, and many other things. It took the help of some really good buddies of mine to help me understand the concept of controllin' my own passions for the gig, and even though it's hard on me to say it, I'm eternally grateful.
I really, really am...and I ain't gonna let ya down no more--for you've given me more to dream about that I've ever been able to fully understand.
And in return for the blessin's youse gave me...I will walk through the pits of HELL itself in order to do somethin' that, quite frankly, nobody could ever see me doin'...
....win the whole darn Roulette.
It ain't gonna be easy...but I promise you, it CAN--and WILL--be done.
#Dare2Dream
Well howdy there pardner.