I sit in my empty room. No lights. No Music. Just sat there.
Honestly, I never wanted a System of the Down lyric to define me, but that's exactly where I feel I'm at.
What do I do what do I say...
I really feel like I have nothing moving forward in my life. My friends seem to be at different, and better places than me. Returning to wrestling is seeming more and more like an impossibility. And all I'll get out of school is the ability to speak Mandarin. I don't see a degree and that is some niu pi.
With all the good things have been seeming to be unattainable, I cannot come up with a reason to keep forcing myself to obtain them. I genuinely feel like I've ran my course, and it's time to answer to whatever created me (I hope it's not those pricks Tom Cruise talks about).
To add to the problem, I really want to own a gun. My intentions at this time aren't suicidal. Just seeing those commercials for Jolie's latest flick make me want to see if I can curve bullets.
See how bad off I am, I'm tempted to see Angelina in a leading role. Just put me in a line up with Clea Duvall and Torch.
So, this has become a long-winded blog before I have even gotten to the point.
There is one more task I want to do before I die, and that's to finish and sell my screenplay. This maybe the only thing worth living for right now. This is at least going to be worthwhile to most of you because many of you've been wanting to know what goes on in my notebooks.
I didn't think I was going to write a blog for a while, but this peace from my screenplay seems relevant and humorous enough to qualify, and something I'd post.
The following is the monologue for the mandatory sports movie montage discussing my feeling on Peoria wrestling. Inspired by the events in my career at the end of 2005.
Oh one more thing before I leave you to it. Friends, you know I can work, just fucking book me. Do or die is what I'm best at, so I know I won't fuck up.
It would surprise me if we are not all bored with the Peoria wrestling scene. Hold on a second. I am the Student of the Game. You fans are not really there for the wrestling, you are there to just hang out and watch your friends do stupid shit.
And it hardly seems that you are putting the effort into that, if one studies the storylines. Desperate to get butts in the seats (an ass every six inches for those who know the business beyond Peoria and cable), the blokes who will go and have a fag with you (cigarette or Dennis) are the centers of attention. Regardless of how much time and effort they have put into the business.
Individuals like me, who have gone all over the Midwest to learn from the best. Are you telling me that I'm not as talented as the Black Dragon, Dennis, or Stumpy? No, the promoter is telling me that because I do my job instead of constantly kissing your asses.
Or he is telling me that because I don't treat the jail bate right, or I that I don't abandon a match's science because you fuckers need a laugh. Sorry that your bug lights are useless in these Illinois winters.
Let's see, what other reasons that I get to be partake in matches where Sinnister dresses up like Rick James and someone has to be the victim of, "What did the five fingers say to the face?" My talent is irrelevant because I have a gimmick. Let me tell you my talent is there, but it does not call for constant high spots.
So I am not a Johnny Knoxville or Steve O, and that's fine with me. If you idiots cannot afford cable, you shouldn't be allowed to see someone dive into a wall.
For weeks I have been waiting for someone to prove me wrong, but the promoter does not want to recognize he cannot. With this down time I've been on the road each week watching better shows, buying tapes, and talking with the best. Peoria, when I return, I will be stronger than I've ever been, and all your Pekin Project heroes will not be ready for the lesson I'll teach them.
Sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to go on such a cold rant. I know there are a few wrestling fans that come to NGW not only because they are supporting their friends like they did during their days of school plays.
Hell, you might actually be coming to shows because you like wrestling. That makes you the best fans. Because of that I want to be your friend. With today's gas prices, who wants to support good wrestling may it be in Chicago, the Quad Cities, or Missouri, need to ban together to be the best we can be.
Join Russ's Reserves, at least for one weekend a month.
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