Post by Admin on Jul 30, 2017 22:05:33 GMT -5
"Same shit, different day – I've been here before. That hopeless feelin', the crawlin', burning itch under my skin – you did it, Shae. You went an' you did it."
A rueful chuckle, "yeah, you learned all the tricks in the book. Such a fuckin' prodigy, aren't ya? Such a quick study, all these lessons sinkin' in so quick you gotta hop up on that rooftop. Let the whole world know you just put 'em on notice. You'll forgive me, I'm sure, if I don't do much more'n muster a half-assed golf clap in the face of your hypocrisy. Call me a fuckin' construct, like all this is a façade an' not the means to an end. Talk about how you put in the time, how you bought and paid for this education of yours – yeah, well fuck that – some of us had to EARN ours. Talk about your dad's Mercedes. Show off your Better Homes an' Gardens set dressin' – get the fuck outta here with that garbage.
The world's amusing to me these days. You're downright hilarious.
I don't really dwell too much on the hard stuff. I just take the blows, suck it up, and move on. After all these years I expect the shit. I expect people to belittle the experiences that've made me the fighter I am today. The world will come to an end if we don't all have the same tick-a-box, paint-by-numbers rhetoric to spew for the masses! Nobody will come. Nobody will want to watch us. Take your words at face value, then it's hypocrisy sellin' out those seats."
Disdainful sniff, "I've said it before but it bears repeating now: I am not comfortable runnin' my mouth. Or readin' cue cards – don't matter. Some days I can muster up the eye contact, keep the twitches at bay. Today ain't of 'em so you get what I can give – not for show. Not a cause for another little snipe. This' who I am, Shae. You wanna see it as a copout, so be it.
I'm not stupid. You're not dumb either, so we won't beat around bushes. I'm gonna tell you the same thing in different words – see the dictionary definition for insanity, maybe futility. Prob'ly find a picture of me. You say you're on my level, you say you got your ear to the ground, to the wall – whatever – an' you're hearin' those rumblings. Nah. What you're hearin' is the empty void inside you, just beggin' to be filled. It's a seashell, Shae. It's not the beach. It's not your mecca, your goddamned utopia callin'. It's just the nothingness waitin' to pull you back to obscurity. Nature abhors a vacuum – ain't that how the sayin' goes? I dunno. I'm not the cunning linguist of the group, after all. I borrow lyrics 'cause others say it better. Yeah, I forgot to cite my sources. You got me, Shae. I'm the worst."
The scorn is heavy. "They say 'you only get one chance for a first impression'. You already blew it. I said I liked you – I just dig your moxie 'cause it reminds me of old times. Familiar. Comforting, actually.
Postscript. Addendum. Closing statements: I'm ready for you, Shae – ready to go off. I don't care if you're makin' me your target or example. I don't care if you shit all over my career – kinda prefer if you do, honestly. Just makes you look worse when some washed-up also-ran nobody puts you down in your second match ever. Itchin' to take the wind outta those thoroughbred sails so bad."
A beat.
"Moving on, then. Picture, if you can, what I looked like 'bout an hour ago: I was in the gym, sitting with my back against the wall, sippin' a bottle of water. Sweaty. Spent. Bloody. There was this bad action movie moment where the lighting was all broody an' you could hear the music comin' from my earbuds all tinny. Pure montage shit. See, the world loves that underdog story. Bloodsport. Rocky. The Karate Kid. They wanna see the scrapper beat the odds – they wanna cheer for the contender. Me, Shae, Not the mouthy shit with the as-yet unchecked ego an' the chip on her shoulder. An hour ago I was peeling tape off my shredded knuckles. I wasn't on a soap box, on a rooftop, screamin' for someone to acknowledge me – you wanna prove you're good, Shae? Do it. Don't SAY it. Fuckin' do it. Shut your goddamned mouth, lace up those boots an' come at me square. You wanna lord it over us all?"
A raw chuckle echoes.
"I'm sure it breaks your heart to know that I'm willing to legitimately sweat and bleed for this business. I feel luckier'n most 'cause I'm doing what I love. Every time I walk down that ramp, it's all hanging out for the world to see. I'm a modern-day gladiator, 'cept I don't fight for my life out there. I don't fight to the death. This' existence for me. Validation. This' life. The truth is, I don't need this win. Legit. I don't need it. But I sure as hell want it.
The type of moment I live for is coming – you're in for a rude awakening and reality isn't as forgiving as your cute little daydreams. Experience dictates that over and over. See, Shae, I'm not sweating over the next pinnacle. I'm not stressing over the opportunities that've escaped me in this world. I feel righteous anger and I'm strengthened by it – you got what you wanted – I'm craving violence. I can already feel the adrenaline buzzing. To me, that's more essential'n oxygen."
A sigh.
"I get it. The world revolves around your hypocritical solipsism – we exist solely in YOUR narrative. The spotlight makes you sweat but you NEED it, crave it – already addicted even if you deny it. I don't need that blind adoration. Never did. That's what makes us different, Shae. That's what's gonna break you first."
