Post by CM Poor on Jun 6, 2015 20:28:07 GMT -5
I think the most difficult thing about the circumstances that I found myself facing during the summer of 2015 was the crippling inability to let my environment shape the way I'd get from point A to point B. I had always been very driven to perceive happenings around me as God's doing, however trivial or circumstantial, and I always tried to keep a mind open to let these things get through so that I could continue down the best possible path in life. Losing that control, that willing ability to read the perceptions of those around me and take them into consideration as a great pool of influence beat the spirit out of me more than any drop to the mat could have ever hoped to have.
As the days passed on, and my impulsive behavior, over which I bore no control carried on with intent to which I was none the wiser, I began to suspect that David Brennan could see something beyond the veil of my eyes, and that he knew something was out of synch. It flickered in his own narrowed, piercing eyes every time he took direction - first a look of utter bewilderment, as if there were some semblance left of David's more noble side, and it couldn't understand for the life of it how this being before it who'd once laid out a course for redemption could now be so willing to accept David for his true character, a vagrant malcontent whose actions served not but his own selfish ends. Any hope of that side of David taking over and perhaps guiding the shell of what people now called Daniel Kirkbride was hopelessly slaughtered as that bewilderment turned to delight, and David began seeing this new outward approach as an avenue with which to elevate himself to a level he so desired.
David Brennan was many things, but a foolish man was not among them. His perceptiveness - he called it his "bullsh*t meter" - was second to none, and following his release from the LAPD's drunk tank, he sat for many hours and listened to 'me' spout off a lot of drivel. He wasn't buying any of it - David simply isn't that foolish - but he saw through it, and he saw how whatever 'my' intentions were could serve to benefit him as well, and for that, I now had his full attention and no hope of him being the catalyst for my own newfound need of rescue.
"Heh. You seen this, Danny?"
He shoved his phone in my face, forcing me to back my head away to adjust the angle and distance from which I'd be able to properly make out the blinding, backlit display. It was a small comfort to feel myself react in such a way, for as involuntary and reactionary as it may seem, it was something I'd have likely done whether I was in control or not, and in just feeling my neck pull back, I felt a glimmer of hope that I hadn't completely lost hope of regaining my own impulses.
"I'm not the type to arrive in town without knowing what lies before me, David."
"What? The card? Nah, f*ck Thornstowe. Been there, done that. This sh*t, you seen it? Look."
He haphazardly held the phone out again, this time clumsily gesturing with his index finger toward the heading sprawled out above our names, begging the question whether one of us - myself or Axel Thornstowe - would be destined to be the WFWF's new 'face of crazy'.
This was never what I'd wanted. I'd made a name for myself since day 1 doing things my way, in line with my own morals and points of view, which more often than not, clashed with the mass majority of those who passed through the locker room doors each and every night. Some guys come here yearning for the chance to show just how unyielding, uncaring, and off their rockers they might be, so that they can hide from the world the things that hit them deep, but that had never been me.
Until now.
"People slap the tag of lunacy on that which they're too weak minded to properly perceive David. What we're doing - this movement that we're building - we're beyond superficial perception. Are we almost ready?"
"Close enough. Kinda dig this vibe, man. F*ckin' old school. Uh, anyway, whenever you're ready."
"Roll it."
David fiddled for a moment more with the camera mounted upon the tripod opposite the room from me, before signaling with a point in my direction. I'd never been one to deliver a message this way - it seemed cheap. Kitschy. Impersonal. But then, I wasn't really steering the wagon at this point, and so all I could truly do was observe as I relaxed in the oversized easy chair in which I found myself perched, staring lazily in the direction of the camera, as the words began to flow.
"There's been a lot of talk lately. The floodgates of dialogue have a tendency to come crashing down whenever there looms on the horizon an advent of great change, and friends, I implore you continue to talk amongst yourselves because history has come to repeat itself once again, and the voices of the many crying out in confusion and uncertainty once again ride upon their steeds to deliver that affirmation, for friends, the time for change has come.
I've heard many of you wondering aloud just what has become of the man we once knew as Daniel Kirkbride. Has he finally, I dunno, snapped? Has the pressure of the road finally wiped clean the lines that divide fantasy from reality? Did Michael Kyzer finally inflict damage upon a man which cannot be undone?
Friends, while your dialogue is only a natural occurrence given the dawn of a new day upon which we're about to embark, your speculations and theoretical circumstances couldn't be further for the truth, for I tell you today, and for all days going forward - I've never seen clearly than I do today. God's path for me has never been more clearly mapped and his mission, his mission that he's waited so long for me to lovingly accept has never been more clear, more thoroughly planned out, and more possible than ever before. No friends, I reject that tag. I reject the label and the notion that I am the WFWF's new face of crazy, for God has never spoken to me quite as clearly as he's now set to do.
There's nothing crazy about what comes next, friends, for my God has spoken, and we are on the cusp of something greater than us all. The advent of change comes with a thundering blow to those out of step, but the victors in this war will be those who fall in line with myself.
In any war, of course, there will be collateral damage. Suffice it to say, there are great plans for many in the coming days, weeks, and months, but those plans, I'm afraid, leave little room for insects like Axel Thornstowe. We've, of course, met before, friend, and as I recall, that last encounter did not play out so well in your favor. Had you come forth with more valiance, with more desire, with a more impressive show of desire, there might be room for you yet in God's plan, but in truth, there are so many insects still crawling upon the Earth, and it's my fear Axel, that you simply haven't shown enough drive to break off from the pack when the feet of reckoning step forth to crush you beneath their soles Axel.
All that's left for you now is the time for you to take your rightful place beneath my boots, Axel.
It's nothing personal."
As the days passed on, and my impulsive behavior, over which I bore no control carried on with intent to which I was none the wiser, I began to suspect that David Brennan could see something beyond the veil of my eyes, and that he knew something was out of synch. It flickered in his own narrowed, piercing eyes every time he took direction - first a look of utter bewilderment, as if there were some semblance left of David's more noble side, and it couldn't understand for the life of it how this being before it who'd once laid out a course for redemption could now be so willing to accept David for his true character, a vagrant malcontent whose actions served not but his own selfish ends. Any hope of that side of David taking over and perhaps guiding the shell of what people now called Daniel Kirkbride was hopelessly slaughtered as that bewilderment turned to delight, and David began seeing this new outward approach as an avenue with which to elevate himself to a level he so desired.
David Brennan was many things, but a foolish man was not among them. His perceptiveness - he called it his "bullsh*t meter" - was second to none, and following his release from the LAPD's drunk tank, he sat for many hours and listened to 'me' spout off a lot of drivel. He wasn't buying any of it - David simply isn't that foolish - but he saw through it, and he saw how whatever 'my' intentions were could serve to benefit him as well, and for that, I now had his full attention and no hope of him being the catalyst for my own newfound need of rescue.
Chapter 15:
"Heh. You seen this, Danny?"
He shoved his phone in my face, forcing me to back my head away to adjust the angle and distance from which I'd be able to properly make out the blinding, backlit display. It was a small comfort to feel myself react in such a way, for as involuntary and reactionary as it may seem, it was something I'd have likely done whether I was in control or not, and in just feeling my neck pull back, I felt a glimmer of hope that I hadn't completely lost hope of regaining my own impulses.
"I'm not the type to arrive in town without knowing what lies before me, David."
"What? The card? Nah, f*ck Thornstowe. Been there, done that. This sh*t, you seen it? Look."
He haphazardly held the phone out again, this time clumsily gesturing with his index finger toward the heading sprawled out above our names, begging the question whether one of us - myself or Axel Thornstowe - would be destined to be the WFWF's new 'face of crazy'.
This was never what I'd wanted. I'd made a name for myself since day 1 doing things my way, in line with my own morals and points of view, which more often than not, clashed with the mass majority of those who passed through the locker room doors each and every night. Some guys come here yearning for the chance to show just how unyielding, uncaring, and off their rockers they might be, so that they can hide from the world the things that hit them deep, but that had never been me.
Until now.
"People slap the tag of lunacy on that which they're too weak minded to properly perceive David. What we're doing - this movement that we're building - we're beyond superficial perception. Are we almost ready?"
"Close enough. Kinda dig this vibe, man. F*ckin' old school. Uh, anyway, whenever you're ready."
"Roll it."
David fiddled for a moment more with the camera mounted upon the tripod opposite the room from me, before signaling with a point in my direction. I'd never been one to deliver a message this way - it seemed cheap. Kitschy. Impersonal. But then, I wasn't really steering the wagon at this point, and so all I could truly do was observe as I relaxed in the oversized easy chair in which I found myself perched, staring lazily in the direction of the camera, as the words began to flow.
"There's been a lot of talk lately. The floodgates of dialogue have a tendency to come crashing down whenever there looms on the horizon an advent of great change, and friends, I implore you continue to talk amongst yourselves because history has come to repeat itself once again, and the voices of the many crying out in confusion and uncertainty once again ride upon their steeds to deliver that affirmation, for friends, the time for change has come.
I've heard many of you wondering aloud just what has become of the man we once knew as Daniel Kirkbride. Has he finally, I dunno, snapped? Has the pressure of the road finally wiped clean the lines that divide fantasy from reality? Did Michael Kyzer finally inflict damage upon a man which cannot be undone?
Friends, while your dialogue is only a natural occurrence given the dawn of a new day upon which we're about to embark, your speculations and theoretical circumstances couldn't be further for the truth, for I tell you today, and for all days going forward - I've never seen clearly than I do today. God's path for me has never been more clearly mapped and his mission, his mission that he's waited so long for me to lovingly accept has never been more clear, more thoroughly planned out, and more possible than ever before. No friends, I reject that tag. I reject the label and the notion that I am the WFWF's new face of crazy, for God has never spoken to me quite as clearly as he's now set to do.
There's nothing crazy about what comes next, friends, for my God has spoken, and we are on the cusp of something greater than us all. The advent of change comes with a thundering blow to those out of step, but the victors in this war will be those who fall in line with myself.
In any war, of course, there will be collateral damage. Suffice it to say, there are great plans for many in the coming days, weeks, and months, but those plans, I'm afraid, leave little room for insects like Axel Thornstowe. We've, of course, met before, friend, and as I recall, that last encounter did not play out so well in your favor. Had you come forth with more valiance, with more desire, with a more impressive show of desire, there might be room for you yet in God's plan, but in truth, there are so many insects still crawling upon the Earth, and it's my fear Axel, that you simply haven't shown enough drive to break off from the pack when the feet of reckoning step forth to crush you beneath their soles Axel.
All that's left for you now is the time for you to take your rightful place beneath my boots, Axel.
It's nothing personal."
I dont know good luck 
