One last time

I died in my dreams again last night. I don’t know if it can be helped. I can’t consciously fight my unconscious. I’ve been letting it get to my head; my brain has become puzzled with the pieces of my thoughts that compose it. It’s becoming trickier with each passing day, and I’ve got no idea what I should do to fix it. Do I even need to fix it? Is it even a problem? Whatever it may be that is causing these dreams, I shouldn’t let it get in my way. I am a mover and a shaker after all.

I’ve spent my whole life setting the bar, or breaking the bar. I’m not going to let some silly little thing like dying in a dream stop me from being who I am. I’m the cloud makin’, ground breakin’, name takin’ fist shaker.

At the end of the day, I’ve got one thing to believe and that’s those gleaming, dazzling eyes that belong to myself. As long as I’ve got that, I’ve got everything I need. Because no matter what happened the day before, I’ll always believe I’ll have one more day to change the foundations of the universe. To have the universe center around me one more time, and have all energy in existence focus on me as the great universal artist above gives me the thumbs up to be who I thrive as; The Supervisor.

I’d kiss the clouds to show my appreciation for the talents they’ve rained upon me over years. If I can’t do it for me, I’m going to do it for the skies above. If they’re sending me messages of death in my dreams, well I can only believe that it’s time for me to defend myself on the grandest stage of all once again. I’m coming home back to CPW to razzle dazzle jazzy snazzy skittles the entire universe again! Whether I’m alive or dead for it, it doesn’t matter. This is all just one big dream to do this all one more time again. It’s all just a dream, A fantasy in the real. I live for that, yesterday, today, tomorrow, ten years from now, even fifty years from now.

Pants please.

Do you ever wake up and wonder where your pants are? It happens from time to time, we all lose our pants as we sleep. We get carried away in our comfortable beds, sailing away in highly effective, intensely efficient dreams. The comfort, creativity, it’s all one big distraction so they can sneak in and snatch your pants while you sleep. We’re filled to the brim with pleasure that we don’t mind, don’t notice that our pants are leaving us once again.

Are they really the pants we wear, the pants we walk in, the pants we soldier on in? Some people might just tell themselves, “ah screw it, I’ll just buy myself another pair of pants.” Those people never quite get the grasp of their pants, now do they? This entire bit isn’t really about pants, now is it? Metaphorically incorrect but intently directed at the fingers that reach for their pants, to have their own pants once again maybe? We’re all asleep wondering where our pants will go next, what travels they’ll go on, tales they’ll tell when they finally do return to us.

Don’t let your brain lie to you and convince you that your pants are still there as you slumber, because when you wake, you’ll be disappointed and your pants will be long gone. At the end of the day, or I guess it’s actually the beginning, our pants will be gone, and we will have no idea what to do without our fashion statement for the next day.

Never neglect your pants because when they’re gone, you’ll miss them and you may spend the rest of your life looking for that one pair of pants. But at the end of the, at the beginning of the day, just remember one thing, one very important thing about your pants. Your may have actually lost your pants before you even went to sleep the night before, and that’s when you’re really in trouble.

Progressively dammit!

First, before I get to my main point or tangent at hand, I have to may one point. You all must be seeing me and wondering “who the fuck is this guy talking when he’s never even had a match in CPW?” Well that is simple. The higher-ups here at CPW keep coming to me with ideas for my first match, and I just keep shooting them down. They’ve suggested all sorts of things from “do you want to have a quick 3 minute total beatdown of some random main eventer?” or “do you want to have a 1001 match win streak?” I keep shooting them down. Hell, they even offered this: “we want to swerve them all and have you become the Xtreme Chaos champion at the next PPV.” I had to decline as well. These are all novel ideas and would work well, but when you’re a superstar the caliber of myself, you can’t possibly accept anything less than the best. That leaves you asking “why would you turn down becoming XC champ?” That one is also simple. Why just get handed something when I’m just going to win in within 5 months anyhow? I like a small challenge, and I’ll also prove I’m better than almost everyone here in CPW. This is the main reason I haven’t had a match yet. I want my debut to prove how much better than everyone else I am. Almost everyone.

That leads to my main tangent. Rattlesnake. What do you think of him? Do you think he’s a douchebag in nice clothing? It’s possible. Quite real even. On the brink of truth. Personally, I’m a little biased with my opinion of Rattlesnake based on our history. Hell, the man is a legend to me. In my eyes, he could never do any wrong. But to other people, he might brush some of them the wrong way. And why wouldn’t you be offended when someone you’ve never seen before comes to your show and steals it. Not to mention he gets a better contract than you with more money and less work. Are you jealous he puts the asses in the seats while you put the asses on the shitters when everyone has become accustomed to your segments and matches being piss breaks? It’s the sad truth that Rattlesnake, is better than you all. Take one step in that ring and you’ll know why. Show me some evidence that proves me wrong and I will be a wrong man, but until then, the proof is in the pudding.

In the end, all this talking makes me bored. It’s not abstract enough. I’m not abstract enough. Are we ever abstract enough? I experiment to bring the message to the masses, just like the sweetness that is pudding and gummy bears. Milky sugary delicious. You know one thing, when I endorse a product, you know it’s worth every penny they charge for it, and I’m a firm supporter of gummy bears inside of pudding. Pudding and gummy bears, not quite good as sex, but a little better than a nice meth and coke speedball. The product is simple, but the point isn’t. Get behind something and put your soul into it. Drink from the cup to become better with experience. I’ve learned some things in my life and you damn sure should as well. Just remember the words I give you and make them into the best damn sand castle you’ll ever get to build in your life. Take it for what it’s worth.

He sure has an ego

Have you ever felt the build up of anxiousness within yourself as an event approached ever so slowly? Eating away at you, because you don’t want to die to find out something, but it pushes to the point that you consider dying to find out. “I wonder what it could possibly be?” as you point the x-acto blade at your neck. Well, as much as it really is worth dying for, you don’t have to live in wonder anymore. I will reveal the world to everyone once again soon.

The world is simple. The world is simply known as SV. Not planet SV like some jackasses like to refer to themselves as, but more like a country. SV country. Hell not even that big. More like SV county. It’s a story passed down from generation to generation, like a million people like that telephone game. It started with one original, true tale, now it’s just one long wide tall tale of me traveling the world loving maidens in distress, fighting pirates and creating global warming. Drinking with kings and queens aint my thing really, but I’ve done it. Loving their daughters as well, well, it happens. I guess you could call me the medieval Owen Wilson; minus the suicide attempts of course.

Well, in that fashion I guess it’s time for me to give an update on my debut. I’ve been talking to the people who pull the strings backstage and behind the scenes for CPW and they’re in the process of giving me something big, something huge for a debut. Not too big, they don’t think I have that kind of drawing power anymore. Well, I guess it’s fine for someone to doubt a man who hasn’t been in the ring actively in over four years. But I’ve still got some stroke at putting asses in the seats so they’re giving me a chance to prove it all once again. Not on the grandest stage of the all, don’t call me the main event, but be damn sure to know that I am still a show thief and I’ll still wine and dine you, put you down in a bed hot and ready to go one more time.

I’m growing very cold out here on the outside looking in. Maybe I need to set someone on fire to prove a point…and to heat up. I’m tired of being left out in the cold from the higher ups here in CPW. But I don’t care. I’ll see you guys soon. Sometime.

Lists.

SV looks into the cupboard hoping to find it. “Nope.”
SV looks in the sink’s garbage disposal. “Not here as well.”
SV looks under the sink. “Not a chance.”
SV looks in the pantry. “Delicious donuts but nothing else.”
SV looks in the coat closet by the front door. “Nada.”
SV looks out the front door. “Zilch.”
SV looks in the downstairs bathroom toilet. “Empty.”
SV looks in the medicine cabinet. “That’ll kill me, but not what I’m looking for.”
SV looks in the fireplace. “Ashes but nothing of importance.”
SV turns on the TV. “Sure as hell isn’t here.”
SV looks at the DVD collection. “Can’t find it here.”
SV looks in the mirror. “Damn that’s beautiful, what am I looking for again?”
SV looks at the watch on his wrist. “Why am I looking for it here?”
SV looks at his wallet. “I swear I could have put it here but no.”
SV looks at his shoes. “Missing the point as usual.”
SV walks into his bedroom. “It’s not here either!”
SV looks under the bed. “Nope…not here.”
SV looks in the bed. “I was here once.”
SV looks out the window. “It would be long gone by now.”
SV looks at his spare shoes on the floor. “Damn. Not there.”
SV looks at the palms of his hands. “Handful of nothing. Eh…nope.”
SV looks at his fingernails. “Bite them much, but not what I’m searching for.”
SV looks at the door. “It’s out there somewhere, I hope.”

You’ve got to think…progressively.

We are all characters, with opinions in a story that becomes us all. The story may be fake, as well as the characters, but the opinions are always real. We’re all just clothes hanging in a closet, waiting for the day where we’re worn and shown off to the whole world. After all, we’re all just pieces of clothing stitched together in a quilt of ourselves, readily on display in the windows of shops of top designers, lifelike mannequins screaming ‘buy me!’ We’re all on sale, aren’t we?

The day may come where your knitted sweater, stitched-together self is the hottest style and everyone wants you, to be like you, throwing money to be seen wearing you. No matter what we do, we will always live in a world where our pretty Earth is one petty popularity contest, popcorn in a bag, hoping we’re the next lucky piece.

We’re always in constant motion. We’re just moving, shifting to keep warm until we get to our summer home to cool in the breeze, drifting along the river flowing through the leaves’ trees. Awakened from our lunchtime nap, trying to open the envelope, lets hope it shows what to do next. Repossession, we’re all just trying to fight it away, beating it off of our backs. Guess that’s what’s next to do.

It’s always a carousel, spinning us through colors of moments, days, and lives. Without the spin, are we even complete? Completion, could it be the necessary correction we’re looking for, to finally fix our flaws, they’re always fatal. Always wondering what our final judgment will be as we earn our daily judgment from the willingly judging crowds on empty cases, broken seals, just floating along like you. Each day spent sitting surrounded by four walls fighting away fiends trying to steal our rights. The only defenses are the questions. We shield ourselves with cryptic questions, always asking if they can find the answer. At least the answer isn’t a key to a door, better yet when there’s not even a door at all. Is it always a puzzle to solve, never a lever, a switch to flip, a button to press.

That’s right, hot off the presses comes a solution worth paying. But is it worth the investment? At the end of the day, that’s all you have to ask yourself. At the end of each day, that’s all that is left, just the end of the day, waiting for the next day to begin. After all, at the end of the day, we’re all just investments.

Olden Goldies

Too many reasons. The list had started to elongate itself. All the reasons to begin with weren’t even useful. It was a long batch of “what the hell is this?” Hell, some people might even say I was running away, but of course I’d be the first person to defend myself and give a resounding “no” as to whether or not I was running away from all of this. I was just waiting my time, watching the show move from day to day, each performance better than the last. Never a better time than now, wouldn’t you say?

Well, the time is right, and it’s time for me to take a different approach to things. I saw the card for the bonus PPV, and I thought to myself “this is clearly a chance to debut and have a classy debut!” They must have planned this PPV with me in mind, it’s a fantastic idea, I do say! It’ll give me something new to do, a good enough reason to walk away from my days of breeding pokemon for the ranchers that only sell them for money. Well, no more being knee deep in pokemon placenta for me!

It’s time for a debut! Or a redebut, however you look at it. A re-imagining is being called to order, and it’s time for me to bring it out to the world. I’m not the same old SV everyone used to know. I’ve experienced a lot of life in the time since I’ve last been in a ring, so I’ve got a few more new tricks up my sleeve. We’ll see what they are when it’s time to come into that ring and prove my worth once again. But don’t worry, I’m always worth the last dollar in your wallet, dancing with that devil known as welfare, I’m worth it. I’ll bring you a rush like no other once I’m out in that ring.

Put the cameras on me, turn the mics up, point the lights down on me, I’m better than any other reality you may see on TV. All I know, is that before I was cautious with things I did with myself in that ring. This time I know what it’s really worth. I’ve got to put my body out there on the line every night, every day, always. I’m going to bring a show you’ve never seen before, and it’s going to be played differently. The game is going to change, now.

I’ve dropped the hints, laid out my cards, and displayed my game face. It’s all up to the opposition to stop me, to beat me, to seek me, complete me, and defeat me. I’ll bring the meat, you bring the cheese, we’ll have ourselves a little dinner party here in the little watering hole known as CPW.

Golden oldies

SV stares at the camera, laughing, smirking and nodding like he’s crazed. “What up my friends, back again to the greatest show on Earth, aren’t we? I kid, I kid. I’ve got a special one today, right here right now. But before I get to it, I’ve got to tell you a secret about it though.” SV pulls the camera in close and starts to whisper. “I know that in this knitty gritty world, things can go overlooked, so I’m going to keep you guys on the up and up. Today’s secret is simple. Every time I say the word Snake, I’ll put some sort of weird emphasis on it, just to make sure you’re keeping up with what I’m saying, because I would hate it if you guys got bored, or distracted, or even fell asleep as I was talking to you about shit no one wants to hear anyhow. Besides, you need to pay attention, because you might get distracted by the colors of the Snake!
SV scratches his head. “Now I remember what I was going to talk about today. Ah yes, I was going to talk about the one, the only Rattlesnake. I know him, more than many people in CPW know him. We’ve got history, and through all of that history I’ve got not a bad word to say about the man. Sure, some people might say he “sucks” or “blows” or “puts my balls to sleep” but I would never say any of that. The man can put on a show, just like I can. We come from the same school of showmanship, some might say.”
SV cracks the vertebrae in his neck. “Snake and I have history, and I closed those books for a long time when I walked away. But now, I’m back and I guess we’re just going to have to go at it once again. One more chapter in a book that’s getting bigger with each passing moment. Snake, I’m ready for us to go at it again, and we most likely will at this bonus PPV, because we’re both better than the rest of the competition, and this is a tournament after all, so I guess the finals will have our names on it. Or maybe that’s me calling out for something, Snake. Maybe I’m saying you need to step up your game so we can actually meet in the finals. But, I know how you go about doing things in life, so I’m quite confident I’ll see you in the finals. Are you ready for it one more time, Snake?”
SV grabs a water bottle and takes a gulp from it. “It’s clear we can blaze a path of glory to the top, but at the top, there’s only room for one and we’re going to have to drop our biggest bombs on one another and that takes a lot of sacrifice to knowingly put it all on the line against one person, when you know who that one person is going to be. You can study all day, all night, all year even. But in the end, it only takes a second to make a mistake, to take advantage of that mistake, and the turn the entire battle to the other side. Try your best, Snake. It won’t be a mistake when I win this entire thing, just remember that. I’m serious this time, for the first time in a long time. You know damn well how I get when I put my mind to it. Just remember, I don’t want to be the Xtreme Chaos champion like you do, so take that as the advice you need to know from me.”
SV drinks the water some more. “That’s all I’ve really got to say about Snake right now. He’s a good competitor, no complaints about the Snake from me. He’s the Snake, what could you expect me to say about Snake other than that? Oh yeah, Snake Snake Snake! That’ll be all.”

A glimpse to yesterday

[The camera comes in to a picture of a newsroom with the focus of said camera being on a desk in the middle. A graphic plays on the wall behind the desk.]

Announcer: And now for your channel seven evening news, your team, with main news reporter, The Supervisor!

[The camera cuts to SV standing with headphones on listening to music. SV sees the camera and yanks the headphones off.]

SV: I LISTEN TO ANGRY MUSIC BECAUSE PEOPLE HATE ME!

[The camera cuts back to the desk with the channel seven graphic behind it.]

Announcer: And now for you channel seven evening news with The Supervisor!

[SV walks over to the news desk and sits down in a comfy chair behind it. Really, you have no idea how comfy this chair was, it was like sitting on a cloud made from the semen of God himself. Just fuckin' artistically superior to any other ever. SV looks at some cards on the desk and then up at the camera, ready to go.]

SV: And tonight’s top story….first round tournament loser with tattoos fails yet again at something in life, except this time it’s not a tournament for a belt he’s not even worthy of jacking off to. tonight’s big story, is how he failed at hitting on and picking up a lesbian!

[SV puts a finger to one of his ears to hear his headphone.]

SV: My producer also tells me to tell everyone that this guy is from the giant failure town of Boston. Boston, ah sweet Boston, a town so bad even the hobos don’t shit on the ground.

[SV puts his finger to his ear again.]

SV: My bad, he was talking about the band Boston. And he also wants me to talk about the Devastation championship tournament, well my thoughts on it are simple. Uh…lets see…I woke up at like…5:45pm that day…I think it was about an hour before my match….I put on my right sock, and then my left sock, they were grey socks, nice socks indeed. Then I stood up off of the bed and looked down at the socks, I thought they were nice, good winning material, cotton. Then lets see…

[SV listens to his earpiece again.]

SV: Sorry…my producer wants me to talk about my pants now. Oh…they were black, denim material. I’m a fan of the pants with the wide legs, because my legs are tight inside of normal leg jeans. It must be the massive amounts of muscles in my legs that do that one. Pretty sure it is, then I put on my T-shirt. Uh, I think my t-shirt was one of Sam Brown’s shirts, yeah it was. From http://www.explodingdog.com great site for shirts and art. I love it, can’t endorse it more than I do or I might get a new job!

[Earpiece again.]

SV: My producer wants me to talk about my opponent this week, man this is going to be short and sweet. I was talking about this to him earlier today. My thoughts on my opponent are clearly simple. What can I say about this guy that hasn’t been said about a 10th graders english paper? “This needs work.” “Your grammar sucks.” “You clearly did this all the night before.” “Is english your second language?” and even “I wish your dog actually ate this and shit it out, it would be better that way.”

[SV stops and starts again.]

SV: Okay, this guy, wants to cause me a world of pain for reasons I’ll never know because I’ve never met this guy before in my life? Hell, he can’t even buy a drink, what a bitch. Get some older friends to get you drunk, noob. Hell, I bet you try to fuck girls half your age and fail too. I’ll let you in on a little secret, it’s illegal, and I know you wish it wasn’t since you can’t score girls your own age. You’re gonna beat me to an inch of my life, and you talk about your gifts of god that you don’t kill me? I tell you what son, I find it hard to believe that you believe in acts of god when he made as much of a fuck-up as you, kid.

[SV smirks and points at the camera.]

SV: You go ahead and dream about your drivers side impact all you want, because while you’re dreaming about that, those two girls from the bar? They’ll be getting the SUPER ANAL DRILLER from yours truly.

[SV earpieces again.]

SV: We’re out of time here tonight for the channel seven evening news! Tonight’s show has been brought to you by Pixar’s new film, “The Story of How I Met Ashley Nolan,” out in theaters this july! I’m The Supervisor, good night!

[cut.]

Some favorites

Geoff Houston, I always thought he was a genius. Not the type of genius in that way he spoke, or gestured, but a genius in the way he always had a strategy. He never came across to me as much of a talker. But he didn’t need to talk, every one of his actions were extremely powerful, in my eyes at least.
He was never in any form of military service, but he was a damn general inside of that ring. The things his did to his opponents, he would always just pick them apart, one piece at a time. But it wasn’t only just physical, it was mental as well. It was that mental factor that impressed me. When you take someone apart physically, you can see it. But when they do it mentally too, it’s hard to see, but it’s there. It’s like a multiplier of the physical attack.
He never spouted off about politics or personalities. He didn’t have a flashy entrance or even flashy attire. He just looked comfortable walking out from backstage down to that ring every night. I equated it to his home. It was natural. No questions asked whatsoever. He didn’t need the charisma.
He had a technical attack like none other. When you thought you knew his next move, he’d change the game completely. Getting the best out of you, getting the best from you, that was his game. But he played another game. That game was more interesting. Making sure you had no idea what the hell was going on. That was his real game that he played with opponents.
These are things that attracted me to Geoff Houston. He didn’t seem like some kind of conjured character, but in fact a real person, with a real life gritty attitude, trusting himself first before giving anyone else an ounce of trust.