I sat at my desk, face in my hands. It had been a hell of a few months. The ups and downs; the good and bad. The emotional roller coaster had taken more than a toll on me. I was exhausted, and frustrated. So much stress lately. I had began to care about what other people were saying. I actually took in their hate, and let it stab at me. But it weighed on me far too much, plaguing my every thought. I wasn't perfect, nor was anyone else. I shed the armor I had built. I was human, flesh and blood. No longer would I fear my emotions. I was ready to shed my fears.
As I thought to myself, I grabbed a pen, and a pad of paper from the desk. I was going to release myself from these shackles of hate. This game, was what I was good at. This is what I was put here to do. I put the earphones of my IPod in to my ear, as I began to write.
I was told I wasn't good enough.
Look where I am.
They told me I was conceited.
I have every reason.
Finally, they said I'd never be World Champ.
They'll be wrong.
....or will they?
Another Modern Warfare, another bout of "When will Styles Fall?" Betting odds had me falling in round one...I made it to the semis. This year, same thing. Last year, I was dragging ass after some losses. This year, same thing....but I do have this WCWA belt to show for my 2018. Eli Goode is my opponent for round one. I know all about you. Steady hand, Multi-Time champion, most recently the BC title you had in Carnage until October, when you went for the upgrade...and lost to someone I've crossed paths with and beaten before.
You're good...very good. I don't take anything from you.
I'm beaten, battered and bruised Eli, but nowhere near finished. We're both coming off losses. And here we both are, trying to take a first step to the top of the mountain. I'ma take my loss, pull these shards of glass out of my body, get stitched up, cleaned up, strapped up, and walk down that aisle to face you Eli. I've been counted out of shit more times in my life than I can care to remember. CWF hasn't been any different, and neither are you.
Like the wind
I will take
All your title hopes
And blow them away
Mr. That Damn Goode....meet Mr. Ballgame.
And when my knee meets your face, that's what it'll be for you...