Post by CJ Phoenix on Mar 25, 2021 14:45:03 GMT -5
"We must remember that Satan has his miracles, too." -John Calvin
Yuma, Arizona. Just under 200 miles away from Phoenix is where we ironically find CJ Phoenix sitting on a sand dune as the sunset gives the area a beautiful glow. A pile of sand runs through CJ's fingers like it's in an hourglass.
Beauty. It's quite the visually appealing concept. Foxes. Stars. They're beautiful, but beauty is only skin deep. Beauty fades over time. Foxes go to their graves, and the stars we see are actually dead already. You know what endures the test of time? Despair. You can run, hide, or even try to fight it, but despair will always endure.
He scoops up another handful of sand and opens his hand so that the sand runs through it.
You called me a thief, a failure, and a pretender, Tsukiko. You should be proud of me for accepting and adapting to Japanese culture, but no. You call me a thief because you're jealous that someone from the West side of the globe does what you do better than you. That's insecurity, but it doesn't stop there with you. You say I'm a pretender, but I'm more of an actual warrior than you can ever hope to be. I dispense despair successfully on a weekly basis. I kill the dreams of people who are willing to die for them without an ounce of remorse! You can't even trust in your own capabilities. You're a codependent parasite who prays that your physical strengths will cover up your mental weaknesses. Your athleticism has gotten you to the doorstep of being the number one contender for the title that you obsess over. You're so close to the title that you won't shut up about. That's why you'll be left broken and devastated when I rip those hopes away from you and slam that door in your face. Then, you can cry in front of the mirror knowing it was you who was the failure all along.
He grabs another handful to replace the sand that had fallen. This time, he tosses it forward, leaving behind a thin haze.
Actually, bring Minka to cry with you since you're clearly incapable of doing anything on your own. She's used to failure. It follows her wherever she goes, right Minka? You claim to not be the bumbling clout chaser that you used to be, but you keep pleading for attention with your "Watch me rise" cries. Well, I did. I watched you rise into TWO kicks to the head two weeks ago. I watched your temper rise out of your control. Most of all, I've been watching that nice girl act of yours fall apart with every passing week. Those vices are coming out. It started with little "playful" jabs here and there with supposedly nice people, but Flop was different. You saw something that you hated in Flop, and we all got to watch your lack of self-control rise. That's where your fatal flaw lies.
He draws an angry face in the sand.
If something so minor as Flop's childish annoyance breaks your composure that easily, my presence must make your blood boil. Good. I'm gonna make you hate me. So much so that you won't be able to properly concentrate. You'll forget everything you've done to try and turn your worthless life around just to hurt me. In that uncontrolled rage, you'll leave an opening, and I'll capitalize on it, proving that you're not as good as you think you are...as a wrestler...or as a person. So yes, I will watch you rise.....right into a Talon Kick on my way to victory.
He changes the angry face to a sad one.
They're gonna despise me. They'll put on a spectacle with those flashy moves they brag about, but their hearts will break when I ultimately win with my adaptability and opportunistic nature. They can't handle the success of someone they blame their insecurities on to try and make themselves feel better. That's fine. All I want is their despair anyway, and if it takes crushing their hopes of becoming Cruiserweight Champion to get it, then so be it.
-End scene-