- Messages
- 621
- Points
- 93
You know what I’ve really wanted to see?
Just some proof.
Just a shred of evidence.
Just a sliver of credibility to all these beliefs, all these misinformed views that I’m just soft.
And yet here I am. My arms are wide open for someone to give me something to fear, something to actually go on the offensive about but time and time again, from Marr down to you, I’m left empty handed. I’m left disappointed because it seems no matter how much I hear good things said time and time again of people like Xander Payne, here I stand having to listening to the same tired, invalidated and deceitful rhetoric. Each time it’s presented as a universal truth, a fact that cannot be argued. Each time, it’s a point driven with such passion and intent that the very messenger believes it himself instead of it being merely a tool and still, here you are, Xander, the same as just about everyone else. Just about the same as everyone who has stepped before me with the same idea being harnessed. Tweaking it ever so slightly thinking that merely substituting a different word, a different line here or there is actually going to be enough of a difference to get different results. But it’s all the same. It’s all this false hope of being less than the man people believe exists - that I believe I am - to simply close the gap, to feel as if they stand any meaningful chance. I guess I shouldn’t find myself disappointed and frustrated at hearing it all so often; it’s genuine fear that lies beneath it all. Genuine fear of defeat, of being hopeless in the moment, of accepting that they are subjected to my will, to my intent. But each and every single thought is followed up by their belief of their superiority, of their own greatness. No matter how baseless, no matter how thinly layered their reasons are, there’s this unwavering belief of being the greatest fucker alive narrative. And likewise, just like their belief of me being a lesser version of my former self, they are defeated, proven to be at the very least, below me in every possible proverbial saying; on a lower rung of the ladder, beneath me on the mountain, below me on the hierarchy. Here you are, trotting out the same delusional shit I’ve heard Xander. It’s mind-numbingly boring to be quite honest.
Nothing.
You’re nothing.
You’re a lowly, insignificant gnat that somehow managed to crawl his fat, stocky little body up the golden stairway to stand before the pearly gates of heaven. Undeservingly, you stand before them hoping to sneak through the gaps, to rejoice in being in the presence of greatness; for your presence would give every bold claim, every substanceless claim you hold some ounce of credibility. No, no, I don’t allow insects to slip through. When the gates open on Showdown, I’ll kick you back down from the heavens. Falling through the clouds, you will crash - splat - across the windshield of reality. Reality, where you are nothing more than another worthless, insignificant bug like so many. Reality, where your truths are comforting lies you hold to shield yourself from having to accept universal truths that harm your self-inflated ego; that shield you from your greatest weakness, your fear of being nothing in this grand world. Reality, where Jamie O’Hara hasn’t been lowered - through intent or natural decline - to a level where even yourself could beat him. Reality? Reality is a cruel fucking bitch that doesn’t give a single fuck about your feelings. Reality is a cunt who will deny you time and time again regardless of how much you might want something. Reality? Reality is undefeated, reality is unbeatable. Reality is truth. Reality is just what you’re going to have to learn to accept Xander. The reality is that I am Jamie - goddamn motherfucking - O’Hara and I have walked over greater men than you. I have kicked better men down for good. I have RETIRED men who were more than you will ever become.
“But YoU'Re SoFT AnD nOt LiKE yoU OncE were!”
And how many fucking times has that been said already? Like I have asked so many fucking times in the past two weeks, just a bit of proof, just a bit of substance to every claim about me that gets made and neither of you thick headed dumb cunts can give me an answer. Because no matter how many times I have to stomach hearing the same tired words, the same tired ideals about me, I still part those clouds that clog your vision, I still give each and every one of you who live in constant denial of just how indomitable I am to all but one person in this business the clarity you need. You say you don’t care about what happened before you got here, that it’s somehow irrelevant. You bring up all these metrics that you can’t even fucking prove even if your life depended on it and yet you’re going to convince me, convince the world, that you’re the better man? That you’re superior? No, my Hall of Fame ring isn’t the reason why I’m better than you, Xander. The reason I’m better than you is that ever since I made my debut in this company I’ve been on a level that has constantly been out of reach of just about everyone else who has chased me, who has tried to remove me from prominence. Within six months I was main eventing the second biggest show for the EAW Championship, in just over a year I was World Champion. I have the records, I have the accolades that some men dream of having but never come close to even being a nominee. People...their mouths salivate when they look at my career. This regard I’m held in? You might not care what came to pass before you got here Xander and I quite frankly don’t give a single flying fuck how you interperate the world but what I do care about is that single word; reality. Because again, the reality is that this high regard I’m held in? I have CONSTANTLY been held in. Go ask Mr. DEDEDE, go ask Cameron, go ask Impact, go ask just about anyone who has been here ever since day one of my career and they’re going to tell you the same fact, the same reality. You can dismiss the lack of respect, the lack of admiration, the lack of credit you receive from me, from the rest of the world as simply being underrated but nobody is truly underrated; everyone is simply in their appropriate position, appropriately rated. World Champion caliber wrestlers become World Champions because they’re deserving, not denied by abstract and spiteful reasons. While you can dismiss everything that predates your arrival, what you do not understand, what I know better than most is this business. How it works, how it operates, how one goes from nobody to somebody. How champions are constructed and how champions are deconstructed.
It’s called reality.
And if you stand where you are is a disappointment to you, is a frustration, is below what you think you’re entitled to? Then it does not fall on anyone else’s shoulders to give you what you oh so desperately desire, but rather it’s for you to wake up to reality and accept it. To for once embrace some harsh truths, some discomforting truths. Because I’ve watched men like you come and go, Xander. Those who boasted about being great but failed to live up to even merely suggesting they held any sense of it. Just like them all, you too continue to talk and talk and talk and talk about your own sense of greatness, trying to achieve immense mental gymnastics to find some ounce, some source of credibility to every claim without giving anyone something of substance. In the end, the vision of your own greatness is an illusion you cast over everyone, an illusion with a voice, an illusion that casts threats upon its enemies hoping they falter but still, it’s an illusion and nothing more. Sixteen year storied career? DB Weiss and David Benioff could have written a more convincing narrative than this and they fucking suck. But a testament of how great you are is how you bounce back from defeat. Because you’re right, we lost big money matches at Pain For Pride. The difference though is that this isn’t a new situation for me. Difference is I’ve lost World Championship matches, I’ve lost World Championships, I’ve been defeated when I had so much to gain. I’ve gambled so much so often and lost it all before. NOTHING is new, only the challenge to overcome defeat has become more difficult like it always has; growing incrementally over and over again. It’s part of my story, part of my legend. It’s why I stand here confused and growing in frustration that people like yourself and Myles believes that this is somehow different from every other time; that this defeat - above all else - is the one that I can’t overcome. But that’s history you don’t have. It’s incomparable because you simply don’t have it. For you? This is new. And it shows, while you’re trying to get back on track? I already am. Slowly but surely, I’m rebuilding a renewed vision, a new direction. Beating you? You can draw from dust and thin air whatever you can muster to make it sound like a victory over you is meaningful, that it matters for me to get back to the place I want to be - where I need to be - but simply you’re unimportant. You can dismiss that as undermining you, as dismissing you and you can build it up as some sort of critical flaw, some crucial mistake that’s going to cost me on Showdown but again, do you think you’re the first person I’ve done that to? No, do you think you’re the first person who thought that they were going to beat me because I dismissed you? Because I undermined you? Because I didn’t give you the credit you thought you deserved? No, no, my Twinkie looking mate. Nobody judges a person better than I, nobody cast their eye over an opponent and sees them for what they truly are better than me.
Starting from scratch? I really don't. There’s a perk to my success and that it’s only when my passion and interest fades, when I simply exist in this company for a paycheque that I’m reduced to nothing, that I have to start to scratch. I could snap my fingers and find myself in another World Championship match. I only have to breath those words into existence to face the World Champion. And if you don’t believe that then look no further than King of Elite where despite being banned from every competing in a World Championship match after losing to Impact last year, I was in a World Championship match simply because I said I wanted it. Simply because I wished it into existence. Scratch is not something I have to deal with, scratch is not part of my world. You have to realise something Xander and it might be a painfully bitter piece of reality that sucks to hear; you and I? We can’t be compared. You and I? We’re worlds apart. I am the embodiment of quite literally everything you fucking think you are already and what you want to be. Ace of the Universe? Alright calm the fuck down there Lucas Johnson you’re barely the fucking Ace of your school yard. As for mediocre, nothing amuses me more than someone else trying to pass my own words off as their own, to try and throw it back at me as if it’s ever going to work. No, Xander, somehow I don’t think a multi-time, record breaking World Champion, the man who was half a second from becoming the Answers World Champion in the best Pain For Pride main event in the last several years is anything close to “mediocre”. But mediocrity does exist in someone who has achieved so little and the insignificant success has achieved is so forgettable, so meaningless. No, Xander, it’s not me who is mediocre but rather the man that stares back at you every time you drag your body out of bed each morning and stare into the mirror. And you know that. You know that deep down you’re nothing more than a secondary act in someone else’s story and it eats you alive. It gnaws away at every opinion you hold, at every thought that is processed through your feeble, fragile mind. But don’t sit in despair, don’t feel as if the reality of life, of this world of EAW is against you. Simply, it is not a new found phenomenon to lose to Jamie O’Hara. It is not unnatural to be beaten by me, to be defeated by the Ace of this company. While Showdown may be a night for you to improve your fortunes, improve your footing in this company, to give you a sense of validation, each and every claim you hold some credibility, for me it is nothing more than another day at work. Another match to wrestle, another opponent to put away. You are meaningless to me, meaningless to my journey, meaningless to my career. What you hold, what drives you is a hope...is a dream...not something pulled from the fabric of reality’s cloth. You are, at the very best and consider this the closest thing to a compliment that I will ever pay you, an apprentice. Albeit, you are an apprentice still unfit to hold the candle beside his master blacksmith.
Stand across from me, young Xander, and watch your world be transformed. I am a best that you have never faced before. I am legend, I exist in this company’s folklore. My name is sung in praise, it is sung in a song, it is sung in mythology of what I have achieved, what I have been. I am but one of the cornerstones that hold the platform for the likes of yourself to grow, to survive and I exist as such for a good reason, a valid and credible reason. Step into my ring, my world and come to realise that you are that gnat, that you are that insignificant bug that crept up close enough to gaze upon true greatness, true glory. Your arrogance, your confidence, to some degree it is quite admirable but at the end of the day, you still exist on the other end of the spectrum. You still exist at the very opposite end. To reach me, to reach this pinnacle that I hold, you have a journey before you. On showdown, you will come to learn, come to accept your place in my world. And if you and your partner choose to pursue this any further? With renewed arrogance, with renewed intent to push the same dumb cunt narratives? Then I will treat you just like everyone else I’ve ruined in my pursuits. I will show no mercy, no give.
You will come to learn just why I am the very legend you hear about.
The immortal being I am.
The true reality of this world.
Just some proof.
Just a shred of evidence.
Just a sliver of credibility to all these beliefs, all these misinformed views that I’m just soft.
And yet here I am. My arms are wide open for someone to give me something to fear, something to actually go on the offensive about but time and time again, from Marr down to you, I’m left empty handed. I’m left disappointed because it seems no matter how much I hear good things said time and time again of people like Xander Payne, here I stand having to listening to the same tired, invalidated and deceitful rhetoric. Each time it’s presented as a universal truth, a fact that cannot be argued. Each time, it’s a point driven with such passion and intent that the very messenger believes it himself instead of it being merely a tool and still, here you are, Xander, the same as just about everyone else. Just about the same as everyone who has stepped before me with the same idea being harnessed. Tweaking it ever so slightly thinking that merely substituting a different word, a different line here or there is actually going to be enough of a difference to get different results. But it’s all the same. It’s all this false hope of being less than the man people believe exists - that I believe I am - to simply close the gap, to feel as if they stand any meaningful chance. I guess I shouldn’t find myself disappointed and frustrated at hearing it all so often; it’s genuine fear that lies beneath it all. Genuine fear of defeat, of being hopeless in the moment, of accepting that they are subjected to my will, to my intent. But each and every single thought is followed up by their belief of their superiority, of their own greatness. No matter how baseless, no matter how thinly layered their reasons are, there’s this unwavering belief of being the greatest fucker alive narrative. And likewise, just like their belief of me being a lesser version of my former self, they are defeated, proven to be at the very least, below me in every possible proverbial saying; on a lower rung of the ladder, beneath me on the mountain, below me on the hierarchy. Here you are, trotting out the same delusional shit I’ve heard Xander. It’s mind-numbingly boring to be quite honest.
Nothing.
You’re nothing.
You’re a lowly, insignificant gnat that somehow managed to crawl his fat, stocky little body up the golden stairway to stand before the pearly gates of heaven. Undeservingly, you stand before them hoping to sneak through the gaps, to rejoice in being in the presence of greatness; for your presence would give every bold claim, every substanceless claim you hold some ounce of credibility. No, no, I don’t allow insects to slip through. When the gates open on Showdown, I’ll kick you back down from the heavens. Falling through the clouds, you will crash - splat - across the windshield of reality. Reality, where you are nothing more than another worthless, insignificant bug like so many. Reality, where your truths are comforting lies you hold to shield yourself from having to accept universal truths that harm your self-inflated ego; that shield you from your greatest weakness, your fear of being nothing in this grand world. Reality, where Jamie O’Hara hasn’t been lowered - through intent or natural decline - to a level where even yourself could beat him. Reality? Reality is a cruel fucking bitch that doesn’t give a single fuck about your feelings. Reality is a cunt who will deny you time and time again regardless of how much you might want something. Reality? Reality is undefeated, reality is unbeatable. Reality is truth. Reality is just what you’re going to have to learn to accept Xander. The reality is that I am Jamie - goddamn motherfucking - O’Hara and I have walked over greater men than you. I have kicked better men down for good. I have RETIRED men who were more than you will ever become.
“But YoU'Re SoFT AnD nOt LiKE yoU OncE were!”
And how many fucking times has that been said already? Like I have asked so many fucking times in the past two weeks, just a bit of proof, just a bit of substance to every claim about me that gets made and neither of you thick headed dumb cunts can give me an answer. Because no matter how many times I have to stomach hearing the same tired words, the same tired ideals about me, I still part those clouds that clog your vision, I still give each and every one of you who live in constant denial of just how indomitable I am to all but one person in this business the clarity you need. You say you don’t care about what happened before you got here, that it’s somehow irrelevant. You bring up all these metrics that you can’t even fucking prove even if your life depended on it and yet you’re going to convince me, convince the world, that you’re the better man? That you’re superior? No, my Hall of Fame ring isn’t the reason why I’m better than you, Xander. The reason I’m better than you is that ever since I made my debut in this company I’ve been on a level that has constantly been out of reach of just about everyone else who has chased me, who has tried to remove me from prominence. Within six months I was main eventing the second biggest show for the EAW Championship, in just over a year I was World Champion. I have the records, I have the accolades that some men dream of having but never come close to even being a nominee. People...their mouths salivate when they look at my career. This regard I’m held in? You might not care what came to pass before you got here Xander and I quite frankly don’t give a single flying fuck how you interperate the world but what I do care about is that single word; reality. Because again, the reality is that this high regard I’m held in? I have CONSTANTLY been held in. Go ask Mr. DEDEDE, go ask Cameron, go ask Impact, go ask just about anyone who has been here ever since day one of my career and they’re going to tell you the same fact, the same reality. You can dismiss the lack of respect, the lack of admiration, the lack of credit you receive from me, from the rest of the world as simply being underrated but nobody is truly underrated; everyone is simply in their appropriate position, appropriately rated. World Champion caliber wrestlers become World Champions because they’re deserving, not denied by abstract and spiteful reasons. While you can dismiss everything that predates your arrival, what you do not understand, what I know better than most is this business. How it works, how it operates, how one goes from nobody to somebody. How champions are constructed and how champions are deconstructed.
It’s called reality.
And if you stand where you are is a disappointment to you, is a frustration, is below what you think you’re entitled to? Then it does not fall on anyone else’s shoulders to give you what you oh so desperately desire, but rather it’s for you to wake up to reality and accept it. To for once embrace some harsh truths, some discomforting truths. Because I’ve watched men like you come and go, Xander. Those who boasted about being great but failed to live up to even merely suggesting they held any sense of it. Just like them all, you too continue to talk and talk and talk and talk about your own sense of greatness, trying to achieve immense mental gymnastics to find some ounce, some source of credibility to every claim without giving anyone something of substance. In the end, the vision of your own greatness is an illusion you cast over everyone, an illusion with a voice, an illusion that casts threats upon its enemies hoping they falter but still, it’s an illusion and nothing more. Sixteen year storied career? DB Weiss and David Benioff could have written a more convincing narrative than this and they fucking suck. But a testament of how great you are is how you bounce back from defeat. Because you’re right, we lost big money matches at Pain For Pride. The difference though is that this isn’t a new situation for me. Difference is I’ve lost World Championship matches, I’ve lost World Championships, I’ve been defeated when I had so much to gain. I’ve gambled so much so often and lost it all before. NOTHING is new, only the challenge to overcome defeat has become more difficult like it always has; growing incrementally over and over again. It’s part of my story, part of my legend. It’s why I stand here confused and growing in frustration that people like yourself and Myles believes that this is somehow different from every other time; that this defeat - above all else - is the one that I can’t overcome. But that’s history you don’t have. It’s incomparable because you simply don’t have it. For you? This is new. And it shows, while you’re trying to get back on track? I already am. Slowly but surely, I’m rebuilding a renewed vision, a new direction. Beating you? You can draw from dust and thin air whatever you can muster to make it sound like a victory over you is meaningful, that it matters for me to get back to the place I want to be - where I need to be - but simply you’re unimportant. You can dismiss that as undermining you, as dismissing you and you can build it up as some sort of critical flaw, some crucial mistake that’s going to cost me on Showdown but again, do you think you’re the first person I’ve done that to? No, do you think you’re the first person who thought that they were going to beat me because I dismissed you? Because I undermined you? Because I didn’t give you the credit you thought you deserved? No, no, my Twinkie looking mate. Nobody judges a person better than I, nobody cast their eye over an opponent and sees them for what they truly are better than me.
Starting from scratch? I really don't. There’s a perk to my success and that it’s only when my passion and interest fades, when I simply exist in this company for a paycheque that I’m reduced to nothing, that I have to start to scratch. I could snap my fingers and find myself in another World Championship match. I only have to breath those words into existence to face the World Champion. And if you don’t believe that then look no further than King of Elite where despite being banned from every competing in a World Championship match after losing to Impact last year, I was in a World Championship match simply because I said I wanted it. Simply because I wished it into existence. Scratch is not something I have to deal with, scratch is not part of my world. You have to realise something Xander and it might be a painfully bitter piece of reality that sucks to hear; you and I? We can’t be compared. You and I? We’re worlds apart. I am the embodiment of quite literally everything you fucking think you are already and what you want to be. Ace of the Universe? Alright calm the fuck down there Lucas Johnson you’re barely the fucking Ace of your school yard. As for mediocre, nothing amuses me more than someone else trying to pass my own words off as their own, to try and throw it back at me as if it’s ever going to work. No, Xander, somehow I don’t think a multi-time, record breaking World Champion, the man who was half a second from becoming the Answers World Champion in the best Pain For Pride main event in the last several years is anything close to “mediocre”. But mediocrity does exist in someone who has achieved so little and the insignificant success has achieved is so forgettable, so meaningless. No, Xander, it’s not me who is mediocre but rather the man that stares back at you every time you drag your body out of bed each morning and stare into the mirror. And you know that. You know that deep down you’re nothing more than a secondary act in someone else’s story and it eats you alive. It gnaws away at every opinion you hold, at every thought that is processed through your feeble, fragile mind. But don’t sit in despair, don’t feel as if the reality of life, of this world of EAW is against you. Simply, it is not a new found phenomenon to lose to Jamie O’Hara. It is not unnatural to be beaten by me, to be defeated by the Ace of this company. While Showdown may be a night for you to improve your fortunes, improve your footing in this company, to give you a sense of validation, each and every claim you hold some credibility, for me it is nothing more than another day at work. Another match to wrestle, another opponent to put away. You are meaningless to me, meaningless to my journey, meaningless to my career. What you hold, what drives you is a hope...is a dream...not something pulled from the fabric of reality’s cloth. You are, at the very best and consider this the closest thing to a compliment that I will ever pay you, an apprentice. Albeit, you are an apprentice still unfit to hold the candle beside his master blacksmith.
Stand across from me, young Xander, and watch your world be transformed. I am a best that you have never faced before. I am legend, I exist in this company’s folklore. My name is sung in praise, it is sung in a song, it is sung in mythology of what I have achieved, what I have been. I am but one of the cornerstones that hold the platform for the likes of yourself to grow, to survive and I exist as such for a good reason, a valid and credible reason. Step into my ring, my world and come to realise that you are that gnat, that you are that insignificant bug that crept up close enough to gaze upon true greatness, true glory. Your arrogance, your confidence, to some degree it is quite admirable but at the end of the day, you still exist on the other end of the spectrum. You still exist at the very opposite end. To reach me, to reach this pinnacle that I hold, you have a journey before you. On showdown, you will come to learn, come to accept your place in my world. And if you and your partner choose to pursue this any further? With renewed arrogance, with renewed intent to push the same dumb cunt narratives? Then I will treat you just like everyone else I’ve ruined in my pursuits. I will show no mercy, no give.
You will come to learn just why I am the very legend you hear about.
The immortal being I am.
The true reality of this world.
