- Messages
- 301
- Points
- 93
It’s an enticing sensation.
One dancing on the tip of your tongue.
One teasing the mind. Teasing the concious….and the subconcious.
When for a moment, everything seems to break away and you’re once more staring at what you desire most. Visible to the naked eye, close enough that the light is bright enough that it begins to blind. You wonder if the obstacles you’re facing are crumbling before you, or if they’re merely taunting you with your desires only to create a savoury meal of your bitter disappointment when those desires are once again stripped away? It’s cautiousness that bites. Unfavourably down on your arm as you dare to reach forwards. Dare to dream. Dare to get hurt again.
I want to main event Pain For Pride.
I want to defeat Charlie Marr.
I want to become the EAW World Champion.
This ideal, this perfect moment, has been tattooed in my mind since my first match, since my first breath in this company and yet I feel a touch of reservation to believe wholly that this may just be it. Beat Alex Myers. Beat whoever makes it through to the fatal four way in two weeks. And my ticket is punched? No, surely it’s not so simple. It never quite is. I’ve stood here before, feeling as if this same old opportunity is resting in the palm of my hands and no matter how I fought, no matter how close I truly came to conquering it and realising that ambition, it always got stripped away. I trust myself. I believe in myself, but I’m measured. I’m calculated. I’m aware that this world isn’t so fair, it isn’t so easy. That I’m going to have to fight tooth and nail to defeat some of the very best this brand has to make that dream of main eventing Pain For Pride, that dream of becoming a World Champion a reality. But the cruel truth is that I can’t fully convince myself that this is it. IF I did, I would simply fall back into the trap I’ve been in for this entire season, EXPECTING the next moment to be THE moment, EXPECTING that everything is going to go my way, the way I envision it. EXPECTING the perfect story and becoming relaxed, becoming complacent. The mission last week is the same this week and the opportunity to get into that contendership match to potentially main event Pain For Pride isn’t going to change it. It’s beating whoever is in front of me, it’s stripping this wall of its bricks one by one until it crumbles and the disrespectful glimmer it’s teasing me with doesn’t change that approach. I can’t get lost in the allure of the grandeur I’m seeking. I can’t lose sight of all the lessons I’ve learned, the scars I’ve adopted on my body throughout the last ten months have to matter, they have to mean something and they can’t all be for nothing. I can’t turn my back on it all and shun it for the sake of masquerading around as being arrogant, being overwhelmingly confident that I’m going to conquer ALL of this without question.
Give them all fucking hell.
I do like you, Alex.
I’ve always thought you were capable of achieving some great things in this company.
But it feels you’ve been on the precipice of cementing your place at the top of this brand, among the leaders of it all, for months now and you’ve got what to show for it? Trust me, I understand the weight of expectations, the pressure that gets mounted onto shoulders, as well as anyone and so there’s not quite the venom in criticising the fact that you can’t quite seem to measure up to the moment. Hypocritical of me, really, if I'm being honest, but it doesn’t really change the nature of your own shortcomings until this point. A season well defined by rising further up the ranks, yet towards the end of it, the stock of Alex Myers has only shifted slightly in an upwards direction. An afterthought at King of Elite. A Tag Team Champion as part of a pair of edgy bois who can’t grow out of their scene persona. This world expects more from you, to be quite frank. It expects more than just….average. It expects more than this incremental growth, but rather leaps forwards. Hard work, dedication, persistence are all valuable and admirable but at some point, results are wanted. And you can find comfort, you can find those ‘results’ in NICHOLISM but truthfully, it’s below where the hope for you was. Perhaps this is a season defined by clarity. A step out from the mire of the middling groups and given the chance to shine a little brighter, shine noticeably more in places you’ve yet to prove yourself. Overshot expectations from the masses but perfectly aligned steps forward in your mind; who is to say you would be wrong for believing that? This Gold Rush tournament is not one to simply handwave away. Once again, Alex Myers has the chance to prove himself above all else that he’s capable of becoming the World Champion he thinks he can become, but falling short against me merely reinforces the preconceived belief that for all that could be with you, the bitter and more uncomfortable truth is that some people simply aren’t built to thrive in this place. That some people aren’t made to become stars in the night sky, some people just aren’t meant to become a World Champion. Your NICHOLISM partner is more or less evidence of this. No stock has cooled off more rapidly than his and now he clings to ever-decreasing relevance. Familiar bedfellows and all that. I waited this week, hoping to hear a spark. An ignition of excitement, be treated to a glimmer of that same high expectation that plenty of people have for you, but…so little. I’m not someone to fear, Alex. I’m a very, very flawed woman who has chosen to rest on her laurels, undermining her opponent all week. I’m aware of my status, aware of the perception of me, aware of it all. But you? I’m not so sure the finger is on the pulse quite like it is for me. Contentment is shit. Contentment sucks when you haven’t fulfilled your potential, when you haven’t succeeded in the manner deep down you know you can. But living life on a constant edge is exhausting, fucking trust me on that one. It’s fine to be content, but this isn’t it, Alex. This isn’t the match, against an opponent like me, with an opportunity like potentially main eventing the greatest show of all, to simply sit back and be radio silent, to not even DARE to slander me, to take the easy route at minimum.
You’re not built for this.
Never have been.
Likely never will be.
The critical difference is simply want. I don’t want anything else in this world. I purposely let my own partner down when it seemed that we were going to go for the Unified Tag Team Championships again simply because it didn’t align with what I wanted. I’ve sabotaged that renewed friendship for the same reason I tried to kill it to begin with and yet the biggest difference between this time and the last time is that I don’t have enough rope to let it go to waste. Becoming a World Champion is all that I’ve ever wanted and I have relentlessly been the villain of my own story, cutting my legs out from under me, crippling whatever momentum I’ve gained for reasons that I can’t begin to explain and this week, waiting and waiting and waiting and putting some form of onus on you might just be a sign that I can’t get rid of this problem. These fucking demons but by any means they won’t stop me from beating you, they won’t stop me from walking out of that Fatal Four Way in two weeks being the number one contender to the EAW World Champion. I started this season with the sole hope of capturing that elusive gold, I fucked my chances the first time on Showdown, I fucked my second chance at Grand Rampage but God fucking damn it am I going to let this third chance slip away from me. It can never be for nothing, remember that. My failures, my shortcomings, my bitter disappointments, my frustrations, my cruel twists, my scars both on my body and in my mind, can’t all be for nothing. I’m wary, I’m measured, I won’t foolishly sell my soul on this opportunity being it, but I’ll still fucking fight like hell to secure it. I’ve been hurt before, I’ve been left bitter, disappointed, dejected, everything beneath the sun but until my wheels fall off I can promise you that I won’t let it slip on past me, I won’t let it go to waste, I won’t wake up the next morning with any kind of regret win or lose. Becoming that, having that moment, cementing my legacy and my story of perseverance will move me forward by any means. I don’t dismiss you, Alex, I just don’t believe your will, your reasons, your convictions are superior to mine at MINIMUM that’s what it takes to defeat Hikari Kanno. Your potential will always be there, always looming as some viable threat that I can’t undermine. But you will lose for the sole reason that you’re just not Hikari Kanno. That you’re just not quite as built to be made for this. That it’s not in your blood, in your mind, to breeze past someone like me, to achieve it all at my expense. ‘Future’ is laughable. Wrapped up in a fucking delusion that you’re going to define anything. A cliché trope that does nothing. I’m of the same crop, the same generation as the lot of you yet not once have I felt the need to define myself as the ‘future’ of anything. Fighting tooth and nail over trying to lay claim to it, thinking your crumbs of success until this point are anything significant enough to carry that mantle, without the realisation that next week, next month, next year someone is going to pop up with the same kind of delusion, the same kind of arrogance, yet might actually have a greater claim. You are filler, Alex. That’s misfortune here. Filler in the World Championship scene, filler in this Gold Rush Tournament. Nobody who is well and truly some kind of ‘future’ this company gets reduced like that.
The valley between us is painful.
Yet a truth that must be faced.
Perhaps someday, you will ascend to where you believe yourself capable of ascending to, but this? Here? Now? Not it. Not at my expense. Not at my defeat.
永遠に夢を見続けろ、大きな夢想家よ。
