Post by Zombie McMorris on Jan 17, 2021 17:50:18 GMT -5
Gharam, why don’t you take a seat on this train as it gallops and roars on the tracks. I mean, its empty but sit next to papa Z. Hes got his feet kicked back in a restful state. His arms are crossed on his stomach and his head his tilted back and his eyes are closed. He lets out a restful sigh as he starts to talk directly to you, Baker. Looking you directly in your soul even though his eyes are closed.
“Told you, Graham, fuck around and find out. You wanna talk about wrestling politics as if my career isnt wrapped up in politics as if Ol’ Z doesn't rage against the machine by simply existing. The Irony of the hand picked Graham Baker who tags with CD and FPV wants to wax poetics about politics.”
ZMAC sits up and looks over to you, G
“ Lets talk about being told that you’re too over and the ‘belt insert whatever belt you want isnt necessary. How about if they told you:
“Z, we really love your stuff, you’re super over and you push so much merch but if you could scale it back, that’d be great.
Do you want more?
‘ Hey Z, we know you show up every week and you do great amazing work, but we’re going to go with somebody else.’
“ It’s because I am who i am and I do what I do, Graham. Theres ol’ Z then everyone else is just a fucking act. I cant call somebody a [ INSERT HOMOSEXUAL SLUR } but we can watch murder live on TV every other week. We can support a soup kitchen for untrained fans and rich men with a mean streak yet you wanna hype up that were cut from the hardcore cloth. Don’t you fucking lie to me.A chair shot dont make you hardcore.
The fire and the smell of flesh. The taste of barbwire. The taste of blood. I am hardcore. Mind, body and soul.
But lets talk about how I threw you the bait and you took it. Even if you think you didnt. You talk of politics but you shoulda been talking psychology. I could tell you how I’m a gatekeeper. Told that to my face. I get people ready for the belts. To be stars.
But you think you’re already a star by proxy.
A supernova in the rear view mirror.
As sad as it is powerful.
You’ll always be proxy a pseudo-legend. And there are no amount of belts in this world that can dig you out of that lovely grave and you truthfully, have no desire to change that.
But I’m in your way?
Sure, ok, Jan. I’m in your way but you don’t even know where we’re going. No journey. No destination. Taking a midnight train going anywhere. You don’t know why you did what you did and you don’t know that you’re the pawn
Right? That's what you called me; a pawn? Oof. Ol’ Z, a pawn in this game where they don’t even want me to play. They handicap me.
To protect you.
Tort knows, GD knows, Spence knows, Cormack knows, Jaice knows. CD and FPV know. Graham, they all know but you. What they arnt telling you; its what I’ve been saying all along.
No Journey, no destination. You don’t know who you are and where you’re going but you wanted to make an impact.
Yet all that name power brought you to me.
Because I’m a gate keeper. A bouncer.
And here you arem without a fucking clue.
You’re literally on the outside looking in.
How does a Man Made God who cut his teeth in the hardcore division, beat the shit out of Max Deamon then a week and a half later is in a match with the coked up mad man?
That, my friend is called politics.
That my friend, is called being a pawn.
That, my friend, is YOU being used by the SYSTEM that you think you’re apart of.
Like all those rioters who thought they were doing Trumps work and are now being hung out to dry. That's you.
Do you know why I’m still here, kicking around?
Because I put asses in seats. I’m special. I’m charismatic. I’m an attraction for the blood lusting fans.
I know my place. I know I’ll never get a world title belt on my shoulder even though I’ve paid my dues and I’m easily top 5 in this company. I know they think I cant be trusted
Pawns are to be trusted. Ergo, I’m not a pawn
I could care less about the system. I get two hundred bucks to break your neck in the middle of this ring. I love it. I’m an agent of chaos. I’m going to Doce kill you in the middle of the ring for two hundred bucks, ruin your return then I’m gonna go back to my condo in Hawaii and snort coke off my wifes ass cheeks.
I’m free. That's what they and you don’t understand. I’m free. I have free will. I’m a free soul not bound by the same bullshit that you and they are.
I don’t need two thousand words to beat you. I gave you the game and you still beat yourself and like them you’re the one trapped on this train going anywhere.
With no way off.
Trust me.
“Told you, Graham, fuck around and find out. You wanna talk about wrestling politics as if my career isnt wrapped up in politics as if Ol’ Z doesn't rage against the machine by simply existing. The Irony of the hand picked Graham Baker who tags with CD and FPV wants to wax poetics about politics.”
ZMAC sits up and looks over to you, G
“ Lets talk about being told that you’re too over and the ‘belt insert whatever belt you want isnt necessary. How about if they told you:
“Z, we really love your stuff, you’re super over and you push so much merch but if you could scale it back, that’d be great.
Do you want more?
‘ Hey Z, we know you show up every week and you do great amazing work, but we’re going to go with somebody else.’
“ It’s because I am who i am and I do what I do, Graham. Theres ol’ Z then everyone else is just a fucking act. I cant call somebody a [ INSERT HOMOSEXUAL SLUR } but we can watch murder live on TV every other week. We can support a soup kitchen for untrained fans and rich men with a mean streak yet you wanna hype up that were cut from the hardcore cloth. Don’t you fucking lie to me.A chair shot dont make you hardcore.
The fire and the smell of flesh. The taste of barbwire. The taste of blood. I am hardcore. Mind, body and soul.
But lets talk about how I threw you the bait and you took it. Even if you think you didnt. You talk of politics but you shoulda been talking psychology. I could tell you how I’m a gatekeeper. Told that to my face. I get people ready for the belts. To be stars.
But you think you’re already a star by proxy.
A supernova in the rear view mirror.
As sad as it is powerful.
You’ll always be proxy a pseudo-legend. And there are no amount of belts in this world that can dig you out of that lovely grave and you truthfully, have no desire to change that.
But I’m in your way?
Sure, ok, Jan. I’m in your way but you don’t even know where we’re going. No journey. No destination. Taking a midnight train going anywhere. You don’t know why you did what you did and you don’t know that you’re the pawn
Right? That's what you called me; a pawn? Oof. Ol’ Z, a pawn in this game where they don’t even want me to play. They handicap me.
To protect you.
Tort knows, GD knows, Spence knows, Cormack knows, Jaice knows. CD and FPV know. Graham, they all know but you. What they arnt telling you; its what I’ve been saying all along.
No Journey, no destination. You don’t know who you are and where you’re going but you wanted to make an impact.
Yet all that name power brought you to me.
Because I’m a gate keeper. A bouncer.
And here you arem without a fucking clue.
You’re literally on the outside looking in.
How does a Man Made God who cut his teeth in the hardcore division, beat the shit out of Max Deamon then a week and a half later is in a match with the coked up mad man?
That, my friend is called politics.
That my friend, is called being a pawn.
That, my friend, is YOU being used by the SYSTEM that you think you’re apart of.
Like all those rioters who thought they were doing Trumps work and are now being hung out to dry. That's you.
Do you know why I’m still here, kicking around?
Because I put asses in seats. I’m special. I’m charismatic. I’m an attraction for the blood lusting fans.
I know my place. I know I’ll never get a world title belt on my shoulder even though I’ve paid my dues and I’m easily top 5 in this company. I know they think I cant be trusted
Pawns are to be trusted. Ergo, I’m not a pawn
I could care less about the system. I get two hundred bucks to break your neck in the middle of this ring. I love it. I’m an agent of chaos. I’m going to Doce kill you in the middle of the ring for two hundred bucks, ruin your return then I’m gonna go back to my condo in Hawaii and snort coke off my wifes ass cheeks.
I’m free. That's what they and you don’t understand. I’m free. I have free will. I’m a free soul not bound by the same bullshit that you and they are.
I don’t need two thousand words to beat you. I gave you the game and you still beat yourself and like them you’re the one trapped on this train going anywhere.
With no way off.
Trust me.