Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2020 4:54:12 GMT -5
Part 1
Teijin found himself on an island of his own device, cruelly devised by someone or collegiate power above him in the throes of life. He always equated that star-borne presence like a cathedral fresca glaring down upon him with judgy babies and overly saturated figures of sainthood. Veneration alone meant becoming a better person than the flesh allows. At least in his case, or so Teijin told himself with the weight of that ankle boot weighing him into a compromised position, he hoped no higher power warped more than perception. All this talk of God left him debating his own place in the social landscape before him and twelve others in that druid semicircle: Lost souls harboring ill-will towards themselves. Hatred bred each member that exhaustive Tuesday afternoon. Except for one voice, someone he spent weeks trying to garble or outright drown from memory, prodding him to speak up from that dirty linoleum. Two hours pass. Thirteen no sooner depart, including a kind soul leaving two doors open on way from that aging Baptist church for the wrestler on crutches. Sunlight laughs Teijin back to reality: A zone where pain remains in both physical and emotional theaters. He didn't share; therefore, it remains his burden to lug into real life alone once more. "Next week" he grumbles during the ten minute process of entering his Mitsubishi Eclipse and driving off into nowhere.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 18, 2020 19:53:16 GMT -5
Part 2
(NSFW music video)
Teijin had heard the doldrums for long enough. His voice cracked for the first time; naturally, nothing came free. Everyone stared from every point of a semicircle with incredulous energy. They had peculiar looks like ultra-closeups from an episode of Ren & Stimpy wherein particular details had glaring accuracy and disgusting truth. "No stone left unturned" he thought while mumbling "I feel that." No one smiled. They simply returned to formation for the next tale of valor against personal demons. They brought every ammunition and caliber to that gun range, firing entire clips with impunity. Somehow, under indiscernible duress, Teijin nestled into an alcove of his own suffering between the natural crags of mutually exclusive despair - a term he tried in place of "one-faced" words like "sad" or "down" because everyone encouraged themselves to be creatively engaged in recovery. That fastened boot - what he swore came straight from Giant Land in Mario 3, an encasing from which his ankle begged to differ at even minor fidgets - had other plans. At least people still held the door for him. There were two this week, which had to say something. All of that culminated in a sun's glare from the road ahead: This winding path snaking back into harsh reality.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 24, 2020 7:13:18 GMT -5
Part III
Roller coasters: How his dreams felt merely tapping life's scalding stove. Skillet hands withdrawn deep into self-ward pockets. Some days peaked like the sweetness atop a mound of buttery pancakes. The next would become a pile of dog shit. "Powerless..." became his motto after hearing braver souls exorcise ancient terrors from their beings. Only that everyone kept staring, confused as to how someone could remain so attuned to their sharing rings but never add to that communal flame. Wherein shame plunged his head back into a briny, darkened depth. And just like that... it was time to limp home.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2020 5:53:58 GMT -5
Finale
Teijin rocked his foot in idle circles. Stricken by that moment of clarity, in which ailments no longer felt broken, his purpose for surmising miserly tales became moot in an exhale. That next inhale was the end of demons. An end to all things darkly suppressed and hugged like his Hastune Miku body pillow where no eyes buy his own foresaw. Teijin reached down and removed the plastic boot on his foot. Having never shared but a single, his rising presence over the entire semicircle gained undivided attention:
"I am a terrible person who makes terrible choices. I do so because my goals are not met by things like legacy, empowerment of others, and yes, the gains of successful athletes. People I aspired to reach in my teens. Idols poisoned with every school book and uniform my dead uncle bought for me. What nothings my mother spoke to me when the nights alone in my bed left me listless in front of the family TV. No more... no more will I let the fragments determine the whole. Nor do I need to glue them back together with titles in Action Wrestling. Mark! Sit down! My time was never until now! So sit down as I let my fucking egg hatch! And no, we're not talking kintsugi bullshit. My whole is not the same. It's ready to get up and fly like a goddamn butterfly. Metamorphosis complete. Agility training commence. Wrestling training commence. New, fucking, life... COMMENCE!"
Teijin almost blasts off in a flash of anxious rage, when a voice calls to him from the hallway.
"Then let me show you where to go next... butterfly."
|
|
|
Post by “The RevolutiDaddy” Wesley on Mar 2, 2020 18:33:30 GMT -5
@theillumidaddy
Someone get this kid a Happy Meal.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2020 14:26:33 GMT -5
Masuda Teijin, on the verge of a huge night in the lore of Action Wrestling, returns to the group setting that brought him from destruction and back into light. After opening talks, the counselor offers something for the entire group to dwell on during discussion. Of course, due to current situations, all of this occurs over Zoom to the continued distrust of most of the collective. Teijin gets halfhearted greetings when his wild man hair comes into frame. One of them has a background with family photos, while most prefer their quiet space decor will suffice.
LCSW: Everyone, we need to fill the gaps. We are predicated on these innermost feelings of self, which many of you are only feeling for the first time in years. We should applaud each of your breakthroughs - but not dwell on those over what they mean to a larger picture. That said, these gaps in our lives may be petty or justified. They might represent toxicity to us, but what about the other side? Are they unworthy of forgiveness? That's what I'd like us all to think about today... and with that - let's open up the floor.
Teijin raises his hand.
LCSW: Great, and welcome back Teijin.
Teijin: I don't have long to talk today, which, is like... totally not how we're supposed to use this group resource. Unfortunately, I have a show to get tonight. I have big at play that many of you might not get. I accept that.
LCSW: All right, and what would you like share about forgiveness?
Teijin: I'm not forgiving my bio-dad.
LCSW: Yes, we understand that.
Teijin: I'm not forgiving my uncle Jubei either.
LCSW: So who DO you want to forgive today?
Teijin: Action Wrestling... it had no reason to want me back, Gene, everybody. I wanted to be sure that my place was in this business, and that what I wanted was true. You sometimes want things that turn out to be red herrings you put between yourself and salvation. And these just get tiresome. Also, herring sucks as an entre'e, so there's no reason to even try and eat that salty-ass fish. What I'm trying to get at is that I need to forgive Action Wrestling because it is only a machine. Machines don't feel. They don't sympathize with downtrodden junkies or those in personal turmoil. It produces week in and week out with little to no maintenance. All it needs is the lifeblood we lube each piston with - every belt and moving gear into a grand clockwork. I forgive it for being inhuman. I forgive it for letting me do CPR on my own chest after almost drowning. It is my higher power because it gives life, and in a blink, will steal it away without a second breath. I forgive them all... but, I still demand an apology. Until I get one - everyone here listen to me - because until I feel forgiven, there will be nothing but rage in my heart. When everyone else will have to pay.
His feed goes black to a bunch of stunned faces.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2020 11:03:59 GMT -5
Part VII - Pact with The Devil
Mod: All right everyone, today has been eye opening for all of us here. It's good to see familiar faces too. Remember, healing is one part change and another part application. If either get out of balance, then we can always return for calibration. Think it less like being "broke" or "used up" but investments in continued excellence like oil changes or tire rotations.
The entire group jots some of that down, aside from the crossed arms of Masuda Teijin who never brings pens or pads anyways. Rebellious down to his blonde-tipped hair and leather jacket with far too many zippers. Although the group tolerates him due all the growth Masuda has shown since last winter... when most though he might be a goner. All of this adds to his death-defying lifestyle as evidenced by an uncomfortable neck brace. Mod: You look like you've got something to add, Teijin. Not there's any pressure to do so, but you seem to be a withdrawn today. We've missed your usual spin on these situations. Teijin: Some big asshole nearly broke my neck when he put me through drywall. So yeah, I'm pissed. Mod: I know Dr. Summers can't be here today, but you can trust us. We're here to help. Isn't that why you came here? Teijin: Yeah... I saw him again.
The room goes quiet, knowing well he means another bad dream and the image of his dead Uncle Jubei. Teijin: Look, no one wants to hear my whine about how shitty he treated me. I get it! I won't lose my temper either because we all have these shit swamps keeping us from getting between point A and B. We try and try, but the demons manifest in uncontrollable ways. Mod: Have tired deep, internal breathing like Dr. Summers showed us? Teijin: Yeah, but I lose count when all I see in like hot flashes of red. Mod: Have any of the deescalation techniques helped? Teijin: When my mind is free - they totally work then - but it's never free for more than a few minutes per day.
Murmurs gather their own opinions, additionally because they're getting close to stoppage time. Mod: All right, so what triggered your last episode? Teijin: I took a Z-pack and went to bed a couple nights ago... and I relived an old time with my uncle. I was maybe 16 or 17 back in Yokohama, and I walked in on one of his closed business settings. In hindsight, definitely should've knocked, but there's this stupid curiosity when you walk up on people that don't see you. You just want to remain hidden. Mod: And what did you see? Something you weren't supposed to - something Jubei forbid you? Teijin: Yeah. Kangaroo court by a bunch of yakuza suits for a trial by yubitsume. Mod: What's that? Teijin: Elders forced some dumb hothead to chop off a digit of his pinky finger... yeah. There was blood and everything. Then someone watching the door spotted me. Uncle brought me before the group while the offender went off to get treatment. It didn't excuse the box on his desk containing the guilty finger. Yeah... I was speechless too. It's kind of hazy anymore, but like nothing goes deep enough to uproot it. You know what I mean? Mod: Did you tell police? Teijin: You don't call police in THEIR neighborhoods. They ARE the police. Mod: Okay... was there anything that might have triggered these memories? Teijin: Yeah, I came across his obit the day before. I forgot it was in the mess of paperwork I keep for medical shit. One of those accordion folder things. It painted him like a fallen hero to the community. Being from that side of the story, you get some of these things beings hard to stomach, but what else are you supposed to do but suck it up or lash out? Tell me that when you all go back to you condos and shit. Are you all really safe from what monster you're trying to cage? Because I know I'm not. And with this latest injury - plus concussion bullshit - they've banned me from ringside on the biggest show. One where my last friend in the world has his greatest challenge to date. Tell me, how am I supposed to repress that monster and not just swing a bat into the back of someone's head? Tell me! Because you can't!
The groups deathly silence culls to an ominous, if not miraculously timed, beep of the moderator's stopwatch. Mod: Stunning stuff as always, Teijin. Doctor Summers wants us to keep focusing on those methods of deescalation for when he returns next week. Have good weekend everyone.
Everyone flies out of the room, leaving Teijin to sulk in his dark shadow. It welcomes him back to reality with its cold, unloving embrace under just enough pressure to feel real. He nods despite feeling overcome by its stark energy. Sunday marks an Evolution, and he would be damned if someone overpaid sawbones was going to keep him away from that North American Title match. He owed to Wesley, and in that vein, to all of Action Wrestling. No more mistakes. No more weaknesses. From now on, he vowed to himself and the universe, he would be the perfect warrior.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2020 3:27:36 GMT -5
VIII - The Demon Spawn
A shot of a windowed door opens to a ring of chairs. Tracking shots follow into the space when the latecomer finally takes his open seat during what appears to be telling moment of someone's story. The next pans out to see the mildly exhausted face of Masuda Teijin sporting multiple bruises from his scuffle at Evolution III. It draws stares, even from the stand in moderator - still in place of the elusive Dr. Summers, but he shrugs them all off. Then, like clockwork, the peace pipe passing over to him.
Mod: Teijin... better late than never, right?
Teijin: Really bruh?
Mod: We were discussing influences after your riveting share last week. I thought it would be helpful for the group to share a little about what gets us into our "act out" zones.
Teijin: I'm not acting out, dad.
Mod: Maybe rethink your approach. You had something tangible last time about your late uncle. Maybe give us more about that struggle?
Teijin takes a long breath as he cleaves reluctantly through his memory bank. Beyond that morning's eye candy and an invoice from AW's front office for temporarily damaging the EVO 3 ring, he tries to focus on something to share about Jubei. Filmmakers would parse something beautiful and personally edifying that would also get the entire room off his back. Instead, his lazy brain focuses on something that happened on what supposed to be a afternoon out with his uncle. Except nothing went routine for the face of Masuda Jubei - and everyone wanted a piece of him....
...when the room flutters back into real time, and several horrified faces staring back at him.
Teijin: So yeah, who's next?
Mod: Don't you have something more to add, Teijin?
Teijin: No.
Mod: The purpose was to pull out these feelings so we can see them for what they are.
Teijin: I know how much I suck. You don't have to pick on me because I was late.
Mod: You have mandated dates here, Teijin, so be careful what you take out on the group. We can all tell you're hurting physically and personally. Everyone here has similar demons. But you don't have keep treating yourself like the spawn of Satan for how a criminal raised you. You also have a choice to be a bigger, better man than your uncle. You're free to be Teijin. You're not bound by his rules and conduct anymore. Take a moment. Release the demon from its cage - and don't chase after it!
Teijin: Fuck you. Fuck all of you!
Mod: And that's why you're here, Masuda. Because instead of letting go, you keep the monster in its cage. Give it wings and never look back!
Teijin: I don't care what I'm supposed to do. All of you suck. All of you brain slugs can kiss--
Mod: I think it's time you left for today. Come back when you're ready to heal.
Teijin throws his chair Bob Knight style across the room for a dramatic exit. Everyone shrinks into themselves while that volatile hurricane of a personality tromps out for a vape. When he gets outside, Teijin finds a missed text from his adoptive big-bro and wrestle dad, Wesley:
Masuda jams the phone back into his pocket while blowing angry dragon rings. He then goes back inside pulsating with rage. Although their second wave of welcoming energy gets him back into a seat. No one gives him any guff for it either, sensing it best to let the kid stew in his emotional distress for now. The session end the same with the entire group hurrying to get outside and talk - anywhere away from him.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2020 4:35:15 GMT -5
Part IX - Poppa the Rolling Stone
(NSFW / trigger warnings / press CC for lyrics in English)
Today began in an unexpected fashion: Not only did Masuda Teijin arrive early to the weekly group session; surprisingly to all, he was the first person there. He even beat their original counselor Dr. Summers. She almost gasped seeing him there to open the door for her. Teijin had never helped with set up before either, which he did silently with the latest BlackPink blasting loud enough for those around him to hear. They paid him no mind. Masuda also tried his best to not shout at that guy Doug that never wore a mask because of his fundamental beliefs. Breathing exercises helped—somehow to his grander surprise—deescalating from his usual trigger-happy pottymouth. Once all had their seats, Dr. Summers made her long awaited monologue before the group.
Doctor Summers: As you all know, I had to self-quarantine. I don’t want to go much more into that because we’re all so worried about the virus every day. So we can call an everyday occurrence. But that’s my unfortunate share. I had a chance to see notes from last meeting, but I want to see how everyone’s doing. Would anyone like to go first?
Teijin makes a two-fingered gesture.
Doctor Summers: Great. So tell us Teijin, what have you been doing with the techniques we discussed?
Teijin: I spent most of the last few weeks trying to figure out what I’m going to do.
Doctor Summers: Do about what?
Teijin: As all of you know by know, I’m a professional wrestler. A shit one but—
Doctor Summers: Only positives in this room, please.
Teijin: Yeah… so I’m not doing well right now. Which means I’m not doing booking and shit. And lately, though I'm not sure why, but my best and only friend in Act—in our company has been ghosting my texts. I want to know why. We’re brothers in this world of outsiders, and his title reign gives people like me around the world hope.
Dr. Summers studies her notepad for a second. Teijin takes a deep, labored breath watching that.
Doctor Summers: Wesley is your only friend?
Teijin: Yes. Everyone hates me or doesn’t care that I’m there.
Doctor Summers: Feel statements please.
Teijin: Yeah. It feels like I’m fucking cellophane.
Doctor Summers: And now that Wesley has pursued ventures that aren’t just catering to you… do you feel, alone?
Teijin: I feel like my worth is gone. Like nobody cares if I drown under the booking and training schedule. That’s how I fucking feel. Do you really want me to be more vivid? Or does that work.
She jots a quick note in unreadable shorthand.
Doctor Summers: That’s a good start, Teijin, but we need to understand what other people do in their time away from us. People have more friends, and we cannot expect them to speak to us every moment of the day.
Teijin: I know that. I have object permanence.
Doctor Summers: And yet you treat Wesley’s other business as if he’s completely fallen off the planet.
Teijin: I know how I feel. What I want know is why he all of a sudden wants to talk to his dad and shit.
Doctor Summers: Family is essential. What’s wrong with speaking to your closest kin?
Teijin crushes imaginary windpipes.
Teijin: Because we had a pact. We hated our dads, hated what our family did to us. He bonded over that neglect, and seeing him succeed made me feel a part of his success. Sure, it’s vicarious, but it felt good to be with the side of good against all the shit heads out there. Does that make sense?
Doctor Summers: Yes, but you should also consider this big step Wesley’s making and how you can learn from it. You mentioned last time about your uncle. The thing with the surrogates to our fathers or mothers is that they miss one piece of the full picture. It can take years find what little things we missed during those crucial milestones; moreover, how that void manifested into negative coping tools.
Teijin: I know that.
Doctor Summers: We can know everything but practice none of it. My challenge to you, Teijin, is to listen to what Wesley learned from reconnecting to his father. Maybe it can be a blueprint for dealing with your father’s death.
Teijin: I lied the first time… he’s not dead, okay. He dead to me though. So fuck him!
She writes one last note with a couple emphasized and underlined words.
Doctor Summers: Well, we do need to pass down the line, Teijin. I want you to confide in your best friend and learn about how he deals with this new influx.
Teijin: Like what? Should I ask him over for buttery chard and a Girls marathon?
Doctor Summers: That’s randomly pointed, Teijin. Try neutralizing that anger by learning why Wesley made that jump. Then, maybe down the line, you’ll find out more about what your father shares with the rest of us.
Teijin: And that would be, what?
Doctor Summers: That he’s human and capable of mistakes—even ones that ruin others’ lives. You don’t need to bring toxic people into your life. If he’s still toxic, keep away. All I’m suggesting is that if you and Wesley had the same disconnections from your fathers… maybe he’s found something to bridge that gap. It wouldn’t hurt to ask a few questions. But more importantly, listen and learn from someone you trust.
Teijin: Yeah. I can do that.
Doctor Summers: Great… who’s next?
Despite his usual crankiness and inability to stay put for more than fifteen minutes, Teijin was able to fat dog his way through all the other bullshit. Sure, it took some doing on his part, but he found some time to wax empathic about halfway into other’s problems. One word stung more than everything else Dr. Summers dolloped on his sweet sundae of privacy: “Listen” because it would be impossible in practice. Also, Wesley was the best listener he knew in all phases of life. In lieu of making concessions with his friend and pillar of strength over the last few months, he phones someone else close to heart.
Teijin: Nobuko-chan… it’s me. Yeah … right, right … So let me just drop you something crazy. I know you were the last person to contact dad. You think he might be up for a Zoom with us? … Well, yeah, but not that I want to talk to flabby Samoan santa any more that you do. It’s just that shit’s got me thinking about something bigger than us, okay … Kuso … Hayaku yare yo! … I can roll my “R’s” if I fucking want to! That doesn’t make me Yakuza … Yeah, and I’ll be there with you in case he gets shitty. All we can do is try, right? … Cool, cool … Wait, she did what? Why would mom want to commission a park statue of Uncle Jubei! Is she losing her mind? … Look, tell her to call me tonight … Yeah, yeah, tonight my time … No, in like four hours or something … Imoto, Īkagen'ni shite. I’ll be here … Cool, now I gotta go. Talk to ya later. Peace, Imoto … Yeah, I love you too.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on Jul 2, 2020 8:41:39 GMT -5
Part X - Who is Your Daddy, and What Does He Do?
Teijin had watched the last forty-five minutes trickle by him on several devices. He even pounded through an episode of Family Guy because that's all that was on TBS that time of night. All because the aligning of stars would be easier than a group chat on Zoom, or more, virtual reunion of the Masuda siblings. However, this one would also include someone neither has spoken to in years. Teijin dreaded it with clawing nails at the side of his Zubaz lounge wear. When a short but certain vibration alerted him to a psycho bear cartoon: His kid sister, Nobuko. "Hey, TeiTei." "Really?" "Well," she says in a rush, "I wanted to tell you." "Tell me what?" " E LEAI SE MEA E SILI ATU I LO LOU AIGA!" "The fuck! You invited him home?" "Home? You call this concrete jungle home? How long did it take for you to forget the island? And would it hurt to speak back to me in the worlds of your ancestors? Has it really been that long?" "Not long enough. And if you come near my mother--" "Relax," he says with that old smile that never wore off, "we already had dinner. And trust me. Japan ain't got anything on what pineapples and spam your daddy--" "I'm a Masuda now. And I have no father." "You can tell yourself that all day. But you were Fonoti first... even before I shot you out my--" "I'm done. You do whatever shit thing you want to do. But keep me out of it. As far as we're concerned, you lost dad privileges ages ago. And if anything happens to Nobu or mama, I will get on a plane right now and find you!" He hung up with great ferocity. Still, a wanton feeling drew him from the couch to his wallet. There, tucked behind defunct and outdated doctor's appointment cards, he unraveled a Dead Sea scroll. Its wear and tear paled to the faded picture from 1990. There was no Jubei. No Masuda at all. Just a really big man, his Japanese wife and their two brats. Even then, he saw evil in those dark eyes. Except those weren't his bio dad's at all... those were his own dark, unmoved glares into that black mirror. His father was alive and back to his old shit. Soon, the hiding game would end.
|
|