Post by Admin on Aug 30, 2017 22:05:29 GMT -5
"Been lyin' to myself – human nature – it's how we cope with realities we don't wanna face, how we rationalize the motivations of others, ascribe meanin' to negate the shitty actions of even shittier people. We've all got roles to play an' I took to this like a duck to water, let them push me into shoes I outgrew sixteen years ago. My enemies're gonna come hard, fling shit all around like the trained circus monkeys they are. Oh, but they'll say, 'fuck the prestige' and 'to hell with the gold' – bargain bin bullshit – so sick of it. They wanna break the piñata… get their just desserts. Been seein' myself as a contender, been committed to this chase so long I've forgotten how to shift gears."
The bonfire in front of him snaps, filling in the awkward silence. Lex shakes his head slowly.
"Tell me I'm wrong. Go on. Tell me this isn't about my head on a platter."
Crickets chime in. The fire crackles.
"I know, terribly solipsistic of me, ain't it? Like I'm the center of the known universe. Like all this shit revolves around me. An' maybe that's just my goddamned mental illness talkin' here. Maybe I just gotta give it more time. Sleep on it, like the axis'll right itself if I can stay horizontal long enough to get the burnin' in my eyes to stop. I know it won't. I know what I feel in my guts. They say I'll wake up an' the lies'll still be there, friendly with the demons now – gotta watch them, gotta be vigilant. Gotta just be…"
He trails off, clearing his throat.
"They see my need to enter an' exit the gauntlet under my own power – to outlast the rest of 'em – as some deep character flaw? Like I'm sellin' out the ideals that got me here in the first place. They don't get it. I don't align myself with wolves. I don't join the herd of sheep, ingratiate myself to masters. Nobody owns me – I do what I do on my own fuckin' terms. That's who I am, who I've always been. An' if wantin' to be the last one standin', the guy walkin' off into the sunset as the dust settles makes me a goddamned fraud? So be it. Rather be that eight days a week than a cardboard cut-out piece of shit. I wanna shake it off, I do. I should know better. There're things I need to address. All these loose ends – labels don't matter any more'n titles do. Every wakin' moment I'm poundin' those repetitious facts about myself like a nail into my skull. Gotta drown out the stupid."
He lifts his hand, scrubbing it across his mouth as if to wipe away the bitterness.
"I know there's targets on my back."
A rueful chuckle slips out as he picks up the belt, setting it across his knee as a focal point.
"I know that was the whole point. Don't need to be a genius to figure that out. It's fine. I'm ready for the end. I'm standin' on the ledge, takin' a deep breath before walkin' off into oblivion. Maybe I'll fall. Maybe I'll fly. Won't know which 'til I try. Risks. That's what it's always been about. Victims don't take those. Nope. Like trash, they just get taken out.
Eight fights. I'm not the same guy I was when I rolled into Norfolk that first time. Things've changed an' sometimes I still manage to surprise myself. Resilience – is that good? Bad? I dunno. Is it my destiny to play hero, slay all the dragons in a row? Is that who I am now? Who I wanna be remembered as?"
He sighs.
"Have to face the facts eventually – need to hurt someone, maybe everyone an' I just… I can't shake this dread. When's it gonna end? Maybe it never will. It's gonna last forever an' I'm gonna go completely insane 'fore it stops. Knowing inevitability doesn't change the desperation I feel. I'd take anythin' over this.
My anger doesn't justify the violence. Doesn't pull knives from my back, either. There's no optimism here, just grim certainty. I've been here so many times before. My nightmares're full of memories, reliving moments like this. No dress rehearsal, this is my – no – this is our life. This' who I am, who I'll always be, no matter what box they try an' push me into – always gonna be the guy who doesn't get it, who speaks in riddles an' refuses to just lay the fuck down an' conform. Obey when they jerk the chain instead of usin' that last choked breath to tell 'em off. Always gonna be the glorified stuntman, content to stand on the rooftop with his back to the rushin' wind, eyes closed, arms outstretched. Pure professional, never afraid of the fall."
He lifts his head, staring off into the distance for a few seconds.
"This' no shiny moment. It's darkest before dawn. The road ahead's just one exhausted exhale, anticlimactic-as-fuck – destiny awaits. Maybe this' the end of the road here in Norfolk. Maybe it isn't."
He lifts his hand, scratching the back of his head.
"I've become somethin' I never aspired to be. Somethin' I was always bein' groomed for even though I never realized, shirkin' labels like it's my only gig. Pretender? Contender? Now I'm a weapon – perfect killin' machine. Knowin' what's comin' doesn't make copin' any easier. Any sorta mercy I might've felt got burned up weeks ago. Violence, shame an' destruction are what I know best. That's all I can give you – all I can promise to bring to the table. An' if you're lucky, I'll even let you choose. I'll even..."
He trails off, shaking his head.
"No. Not like this. I've gotta..."
Lex lifts the belt from his lap, deliberately tossing it in the fire. Hungry flames consume it, the destruction reflected in his dark eyes.
"Let it burn. All of it."
