002: Book of Revelation

"Trainwrecks – funny you mention that, guy – ain't the speed'at kills. Nah. It's the sudden stop at the end."

Surprisingly, instead of a black void, the grainy darkness fades, revealing Lex Collins sitting with his back against a cinderblock wall. His soulful brown eyes lock on the camera, that initial impression of being half-asleep fading away under the intensity of that stare before he clears his throat, lifting a can of Pepsi to his lips.

"Everyone's got some kinda motivation rollin' into this. Every. One. Avengin' some loss. Puttin' space 'tween some smokin' ruins in the rear-view. Ditchin' a coat-tail rider." He lifts his free hand, gesturing vaguely before taking another sip of soda. "Y'know, whatever – it's there. You're not special's what I'm tryna say an' I know that's just a shade of the nihilistic Fight Club mantra, ain't it? Tyler Durden's classic 'we are the all-singin', all-dancin' crap of the world' – got some intimate knowledge there, believe me."

He leans back, the top half of his face in shadow now, except for his mouth and that's sporting a crooked smirk that's there and gone in a flash.

"All boils down to the same thing. Break it down to its most basic level, to neurons an' impulses an' we're all just meat suits haunted by ghosts pullin' the strings. Sounds dumb, I know, but you go into a thing like this an' you're just playin' the simplest game of Guess Who. You ever play that when you were a kid? Does the guy you're goin' at got any scars? Any skeletons? Any glarin' weaknesses? Jot 'em down. Cross 'em off. Flip a card. Elimination – down to the last two. Same song every time an' I know all the words by heart. Different writer but the message remains: you're not a beautiful or unique snowflake. Simple terms? We all got some screwy..."

He lifts his hand, waggling it beside his ear, "some kinda demon'at brought us into this. 'Cause nobody sane does this for long. So when I tell you I spent 'bout twelve years gettin' hit... gettin' knocked down an' hidin' the bruises, learnin' how to walk without no hitches, learnin' how to pick fights on the playground there's no mystery, right? You could look it up, see if I'm spinnin' or I'm on the level an' when you find the dates you're doin' math, tryna guess if I meant my before or my career an' see," he flashes that ghost of a smile again, "that's the trick some folks never master."

He lets his head fall back against the wall, sighing.

"This part's hard. You don't know me. Six months away from the limelight, almost a year away from what'd rightfully be considered a bigger pond an' I know... I'm swimmin' upstream here. Harder battle. Uphill both ways an' no matter what I say here, now, you got no actions to stack it up 'gainst for the measuring stick. Much as some wanna think I came here solely for this shot," he shakes his head, chuckling ruefully, "maybe pay attention to social media. Said I was comin' back by May. So this, folks, this' just circumstance more'n avarice an' ego."

His voice comes out strained. "My story, most don't even skim the first page. They look at my wardrobe an' write me off as some hipster, pseudo-punk poser. Look at my face, these dark circles under my eyes an' label me as some strung-out junkie. Neither's too flatterin' but," he shrugs, "I've had various levels of underwear-on-head dumbfuckery tossed at me for years. Water off the duck's backside, y'know? I lost my handhold, fell out after Sin City – I know I did an' for a while I was content to dangle, drift, pretend I was still alright while dabblin' in Olympus, rackin' up the wins. Truth, though? Wasn't good. Wasn't fulfillin'. Just," he sighs, shaking his head.

"Just wasn't me. Took distance to see it for what it was: just draggin' in another breath, spinnin' bein' FEARLESS while runnin' scared. An' now? Different song, different key – RIGHTEOUS survival song 'cause this ain't limbo, y'know? This chapter's not Genesis or Exodus... this' the Book of REVELATION."

He reaches up, rubbing his hand over his mouth. His final words come out low. Firm. "That's my story an' these others couldn't write somethin' that honest even if they wrung every drop of my blood out an' used it for ink."