Post by Deleted on Feb 5, 2024 14:19:28 GMT -6
I care very little about winning or losing. It has never been what drives me inside of the ring, nor is it something that I allow to divert me from the end game I desire. Sure, it's nice to have the dopamine hit after victory, but it is just another match at the end of the day. Another cog in the endless machine, serving only to fulfil the desires of the temple.
Nothing more.
It is why I don't allow myself to become too emotionally invested with things like status or prestige either. They are things that are oftentimes meant to try and elevate someone, yet are only truly relevant in the eyes of the fans. It is the same with one's legacy - you can point to championships won or hall of fames entered as a measure, but ultimately, it is designed to generate engagement and debate amongst fans. Not for those of us between the ropes, no matter how many people in the sport today seem to gravitate toward them as a way to measure their own dicks and stroke their egos. It's just how it is, I guess.
One must always try to make themselves out to look superior, even if it means masking their own insecurities within.
Yet that is not the only way one can mask their innermost insecurities. Another means of doing so, and one that has a lot more history behind it than the dick measuring and posturing I mentioned before, is concealing your identity behind a mask or a name intended to strike fear into the hearts of your foes.
I hope you know where I'm heading with this.
Yes, I am referring to the very thing that Nocturnal, or in this case, Nocturnal II, has done throughout the course of their career. A career that I am intimately familiar with, just as the entity that holds that moniker is familiar with mine.
"This isn't our first rodeo together, is it, Nocturnal?"
I remark, laying across my couch inside of my Eltham residence, having elected to stay home to celebrate Australia day and help with a few errands before flying out to New Orleans for Ignite. For it is true. This isn't the first time I have stared into the eyes of the vessal baring the name Noctural - or even this vessal. We were both in that triple threat late last year, so I am more than familiar with what the 2nd version of Nocturnal can do in the ring and the differences between him and the version the vast majority of people are more familiar with as a whole.
Yet he still doesn't have a single clue what to expect from me.
How so? You see, there's something you need to learn about me - I never go into any match the same way I had previously. I never use the same tactics twice, no matter how effective they may have been, for it is the perfect way to enable your opponent to scout you. To pinpoint specific weaknesses in your game and exploit them. Something any wrestler worth their salt will do.
"We've done this dance before and I'm sure we'll do this dance again as time goes on. We always seem to find ways to cross paths with one another, whether or not we design for it to play out that way."
"Yet one thing remains true throughout all those encounters."
I exhale, a small smile crossing my face.
"I always see through your little facade. I always stare you in the eyes and tell you that I am not afraid of you. I am not intimidated by the acts you have commited in the past or by the aura you possess. For it is all a shell. Smoke and mirrors, designed to protect you from what you fear the most --- yourself."
"And I know that scares you. I know it bothers you that you cannot just say your spiel and hope that the opponent will be scared enough or that they'll freeze up for that you can tear them down. Instead, you must get your hands dirty and actually shed blood in order to even attempt to obtain what you desire. Something you have never wished to do."
"You can say you want to. You can try and tell youself that you were born into violence and made to break people inside of the ring, but we both know what is false, don't we?"
I chuckle.
"After all, if you truly were born into the path you claim, you wouldn't need to hide. You wouldn't need a vessal in order to convey that message you hold. You wouldn't need to preach in order for your message to be heard if you truly stood by your convictions."
My smile remains as I stroke my beard.
"But you know this already, don't you. You already know that this is all an act. A ruse that people have eaten up, hence why you continue it."
I sigh. Just another case of how easily people buy into propogranda without even realizing it. It's as if they allow the wool to be pulled over their eyes and soak up everything Nocturnal feeds them, believing it to be some sort of gospel. Not understanding that it is the root cause of the infestation surrounding the industry. One where people feel safe to pretend, and wilfully deny reality.
It's a sight that has been all too common throughout the cause of my career. People blindly accepting 'monsters' when they are merely little lambs, trying to make themselves into wolves.
Sliding my feet off the couch, I sit up and exhale once more, this time glancing across at the book I had been reading before returning my focus to the task at hand.
"Come Ignite, it all gets exposed for what it is --- which is why you are so afraid. It is why you are going to try your little mind games. Try to play chess, not knowing that you were checkmated long before this even began."
"It is why you are hoping Garrison manages to save you. It is why you're hoping he will be on my mind instead of you. Why you're praying that my eyes will be mindful of him so you can strike."
I shake my head.
"That won't be the case."
I flash another smile.
"Ignite is your funeral. It is where you begin your final descent, and it shall be at my hands. It will be there that it all comes into the light."
I lower my voice into a whisper, just as Bianca enters the room.
"See you there."
END
Nothing more.
It is why I don't allow myself to become too emotionally invested with things like status or prestige either. They are things that are oftentimes meant to try and elevate someone, yet are only truly relevant in the eyes of the fans. It is the same with one's legacy - you can point to championships won or hall of fames entered as a measure, but ultimately, it is designed to generate engagement and debate amongst fans. Not for those of us between the ropes, no matter how many people in the sport today seem to gravitate toward them as a way to measure their own dicks and stroke their egos. It's just how it is, I guess.
One must always try to make themselves out to look superior, even if it means masking their own insecurities within.
Yet that is not the only way one can mask their innermost insecurities. Another means of doing so, and one that has a lot more history behind it than the dick measuring and posturing I mentioned before, is concealing your identity behind a mask or a name intended to strike fear into the hearts of your foes.
I hope you know where I'm heading with this.
Yes, I am referring to the very thing that Nocturnal, or in this case, Nocturnal II, has done throughout the course of their career. A career that I am intimately familiar with, just as the entity that holds that moniker is familiar with mine.
"This isn't our first rodeo together, is it, Nocturnal?"
I remark, laying across my couch inside of my Eltham residence, having elected to stay home to celebrate Australia day and help with a few errands before flying out to New Orleans for Ignite. For it is true. This isn't the first time I have stared into the eyes of the vessal baring the name Noctural - or even this vessal. We were both in that triple threat late last year, so I am more than familiar with what the 2nd version of Nocturnal can do in the ring and the differences between him and the version the vast majority of people are more familiar with as a whole.
Yet he still doesn't have a single clue what to expect from me.
How so? You see, there's something you need to learn about me - I never go into any match the same way I had previously. I never use the same tactics twice, no matter how effective they may have been, for it is the perfect way to enable your opponent to scout you. To pinpoint specific weaknesses in your game and exploit them. Something any wrestler worth their salt will do.
"We've done this dance before and I'm sure we'll do this dance again as time goes on. We always seem to find ways to cross paths with one another, whether or not we design for it to play out that way."
"Yet one thing remains true throughout all those encounters."
I exhale, a small smile crossing my face.
"I always see through your little facade. I always stare you in the eyes and tell you that I am not afraid of you. I am not intimidated by the acts you have commited in the past or by the aura you possess. For it is all a shell. Smoke and mirrors, designed to protect you from what you fear the most --- yourself."
"And I know that scares you. I know it bothers you that you cannot just say your spiel and hope that the opponent will be scared enough or that they'll freeze up for that you can tear them down. Instead, you must get your hands dirty and actually shed blood in order to even attempt to obtain what you desire. Something you have never wished to do."
"You can say you want to. You can try and tell youself that you were born into violence and made to break people inside of the ring, but we both know what is false, don't we?"
I chuckle.
"After all, if you truly were born into the path you claim, you wouldn't need to hide. You wouldn't need a vessal in order to convey that message you hold. You wouldn't need to preach in order for your message to be heard if you truly stood by your convictions."
My smile remains as I stroke my beard.
"But you know this already, don't you. You already know that this is all an act. A ruse that people have eaten up, hence why you continue it."
I sigh. Just another case of how easily people buy into propogranda without even realizing it. It's as if they allow the wool to be pulled over their eyes and soak up everything Nocturnal feeds them, believing it to be some sort of gospel. Not understanding that it is the root cause of the infestation surrounding the industry. One where people feel safe to pretend, and wilfully deny reality.
It's a sight that has been all too common throughout the cause of my career. People blindly accepting 'monsters' when they are merely little lambs, trying to make themselves into wolves.
Sliding my feet off the couch, I sit up and exhale once more, this time glancing across at the book I had been reading before returning my focus to the task at hand.
"Come Ignite, it all gets exposed for what it is --- which is why you are so afraid. It is why you are going to try your little mind games. Try to play chess, not knowing that you were checkmated long before this even began."
"It is why you are hoping Garrison manages to save you. It is why you're hoping he will be on my mind instead of you. Why you're praying that my eyes will be mindful of him so you can strike."
I shake my head.
"That won't be the case."
I flash another smile.
"Ignite is your funeral. It is where you begin your final descent, and it shall be at my hands. It will be there that it all comes into the light."
I lower my voice into a whisper, just as Bianca enters the room.
"See you there."
END