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Give Me A Sign...
..:: I know what you’re thinking and YES... it is as ridiculous as it sounds. But there is no beating around the bush, no way to subtly introduce a topic that holds as much weight as this one does. So now I’m left with little choice but to break down as best as I can because until I do, there is nothing left to say. After, though, it will all make much more sense. ::.. ..:: The fact of the matter is that I am a product of someone’s boredom, creativity, and poor time-management skills. I’m portrayed as a character with extravagant and grandiose mannerisms for nothing more than the entertainment of few... and the satisfaction of one. You may as well call me a fucking avatar. ::.. ..:: Poets would over-analyze the situation and label me a ‘vessel,’ while more pretentious minds would consider me a ‘canvas’... designed for the sole purpose of expressing my benefactor’s experiences, fantasies, and commentaries. There is no grand design to my life... no hidden truth or meaning that will answer all of life’s riddles like a neatly designed puzzle that was probably made in Japan. All I have is a mind-frame and an understanding now as to why I’m in it. ::.. ..:: So now I’m ‘aware’ in every sense of the word and we are left with the question of “what now?” By all means, this is no reflection piece. ::.. ..:: While I can, I’m not going to sit here and moan about the fact that my existence is so futile and there is no actual substance behind anything I see or feel... how I’m just held by figurative puppet strings to live the vicarious life my benefactor could never have. But that would be boring and a waste of such a clever set-up. Besides, this pen states that feeling emotionally violated isn’t suitable to my mind-frame at this point in time. ::.. ..:: I can also use my pen-approved, new-found knowledge to provide a unique perspective in a commentary on this little game I was created to take part of. I can preach my irrelevant point of view on the nonsensical aspects; such as community, creativity, determination, ethic and competition. I can rant about why those certain aspects suck and how they can be changed... but there would be no point. There’d be no change I could invoke with such a petty voice as my own... I am only an e-wrestler, after all. ::.. ..:: I could cleverly decipher the art of the roleplay, and how it is truly a creative debate to see which one of us should be the victor. Where the lot of us would duel with our words and all that matters is how well we entertained a single person. I can prattle on about why I’m better than you and why my escapades are far more entertaining than your escapades... but that would be silly. I’m not going to do that. ::.. ..:: No... I’m going to be a little creative, now that I’ve broken the fourth wall. You see, that’s what this entire piece is all about... breaking limits. ::.. ..:: Everyone was created for a sole purpose... to be confined to a situation where week in and week out we’d be placed in direct competition with one another to find out who is capable of telling a story and who isn’t. Characters and places, all written by a conglomerate of people all with experiences, fantasies, and commentaries they’d wish to share with each other. The fact of the matter is, they are brought together by a rather trivial means... the medium of wrestling. ::.. ..:: So week in and week out, we subject ourselves to this medium and learn to grow within its parameters. While interesting tales have been woven and told, potential is only realized at small increments. Every creator that places their stake has their voice, their story to tell. Whether it’s a Nicaraguan pit-fighter merely trying to make their way in an extravagant world, or a masochistic deviant with no regards to human life, or a struggling and drug-addled performer with an equal balance of addictions and lovers... everyone fits neatly into their pile. ::.. ..:: It’s like everyone wants to tell the stories they are familiar with and express no need or purpose to step outside their self-imposed boundaries. That’s understandable. Let the creators cater to their herd. Feed the same tripe. Be bound by a sense of realism. Mimic your life down to every crossed-T and dotted-I. Maintain rules that will only end up limiting the expression you can truly make. ::.. ..:: My benefactor and I, however, are coloring outside the lines. And we’re not afraid to use the wrong colors. ::.. ..:: Because while it is fun to delve into situations that so closely remind you of your own life, that is not the purpose of immersing ourselves in such literature. I’m not upset or confused or excited in the understanding of my existence. Frankly, I’m a bit indifferent. It just means that now I understand my further antics and escapades are designed by someone with my interests at heart, whether they be pain and suffering or joy and pleasure. They’ll be a story, and at the end of the day, that’s all that matters. :::.. ..:: I’m not trying to win any awards here. I’m not trying to reach any grand achievement through being. Neither is my benefactor. We’re here for the same reason you are... to win. ::.. ..:: But through this medium comes a form of expression we’re all dying to create. Once again, our benefactors experiences, fantasies, and commentaries being expressed as a means of achieving victory. ::.. ..:: That’s where the relevancy of this monologue and the self-awareness comes to play. As a reader, you have to question it. For what purpose has Johnny Styles broken the fourth wall? Why has The SBK learned that he is nothing more than words from a bored being sitting behind a computer? ::.. ..:: Because it’s necessary to show that shattered wall to continue on with the story. ::.. ..:: Since we’ve realized that I’m nothing more than an avatar... a means for a creative person to live vicariously, why don’t we exercise the means and exploit its process? ::.. ..:: My introspective mode of thinking slowly begins to unravel as the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom once again. For the sake of the story, dressed up to inform the faceless passengers on this flight, the pilot tells us we will be landing in Cali shortly, in whatever fucking airport that they decide to have. I figure I’d better stop prattling about my wonderfully trepid existence and begin to plan out how I’m going to achieve my means. ::.. ..:: Then I remind myself that it isn’t I that needs to stress about planning... that’s the benefactor’s job. He’ll will some amazing plot into action. ::.. ..:: So I smile at the happenings and what may come to transpire. For this is the true fruit of vicarious living.::. 
Ding. The sound of an Instant Message brings John Gray from one of the countless syndicated episodes of Cops playing on his TV. While he finds the concept of morbidly skinny meth-addicts arguing with police officers to be entertaining, he is familiar enough with the concept to turn away and remain satisfied. Of course he’s seen his fair share of Cops episodes. He wipes the Flaming Hot Cheetoh’s dust on his shirt while he scans the screen-name, smiling upon recognition that is his friend Adam. Adam: Hey fuck face, you ready? John makes sure he’s licked the last of the cheese residue off his fingertips before gracing his keyboard. Johnnyking315: Yes, I am ready you child-porn watching ass. :-P Adam: Don’t make me come down there to stab you in the stomach and have sex with the hole. Adam: Because I will. JohnnyKing315: Alright lol. I’d hate to feel the wrath of Barelai and Requiem once again :-X You start it off. Adam: Okay, but you’re compiling AND formatting. Johnnyking315: Yes, master :-P While waiting for his friend to respond, Johnny turns his head towards the back of the room with the TV still in view. Finding Cops is over; he turns the channel and begins to watch the View. Don’t blame the fellow because he has to get his sugar coated fix before he jumps ship to the Today Show just like the rest of us. Adam: The room was cold and to tell you the truth, Requiem didn’t like cold. In fact, you could say he hated the cold. That was what his Kelly was there for; to keep him warm. Oh how he longed for her much like he had for the past few months. He often found himself reaching for her empty place at the bedside in the middle of the night, restlessness getting the best of him. Adam: He decided to respond to the situation in the best way he really knew how: by beating the hell out of Joe Santiago. This made sense in all the weird ways. But we’re not Joe, so who are we to judge his thought process. This, he figured, would send the message to him that there would be no relenting of his attacks until he had Kelly once again. Adam: If she even wanted him. Adam: Requiem kicked in Joe’s locker room door to find him surprisingly alone. Not that it mattered if someone else was there because he’d probably beat the fuck out of him. Adam responded by kicking the fag in the stomach while he was off his guard. Adam: Your turn. John’s reaction to the beginning of the segment is somewhat mixed. Somewhat expecting a fair portrayal of their characters, his nose soured at the immediate beating Requiem put to his character. So he decides to even the playing field a bit, in his mind. Johnnyking315: Sorry to break away, but you ever think about working for Joe again? Adam: Ah…No Adam: Why? Johnnyking315: NLWF is why Adam: Fucker has crawled out of his deep hole Johnnyking315: And brought his alter ego Cyber Sex with em Adam: Fuck em. Dudes a straight dick. Still hot and bothered about what went down in JWF Johnnyking315: Doesn’t seem so Adam: Fuck him. Every idea I had for the dick he shot down. I tried to get the Barley Legal idea in JWF and he said it blew Johnnyking315: It was one of are best titles. Adam: Guy has a ego the size of the island he grew up on. Johnnyking315: I signed up there…NLWF Adam: Dumbass Johnnyking315: Maybe. But thus far its seems alright, besides the point of Styles facing Cyber Sex. He did a great first rp, but I believe I destroyed him in my second, his come back was ’this is the life of Johnny Styles(z) Adam: ROFLMAO Johnnyking315: Said he didn’t need to read my second. Adam: Oh he read it, I read it and really how can a Santaigo ego come back from a Cutie Pie diss Johnnyking315: Only did it because he compared me to Joe Adam: Screw that shit. Joe is always making himself look like the victim. Always sending Matt (crimson skull/porter) messages about how much we were wrong with what we did to him. I always say the same fucking thing, What about the shit he did to US!?! Adam: Always giving us shit because we call bullshit. JWF was never a Storyline fed until he made it so to help his character. Do you remember the whole beast match? You straight killed the fuck and he wins the Freddy Blue Finger trophy? TBH I doubt he even reads rps. Matt and I came to that agreement. Adam: And then the cocksucker gives Beast lose to Steven in some sort of a homo make up bullshit. Remember they were cock fighting and Joe’s dad broke it up. Four weeks later Steven beats Beast. Johnnyking315: Yea Adam: And do I need to bring up the best of 7 series? Joe beat you in the first match, that was clear. But the back-to-back loses from Joe was crap. You killed him so much I was crying. But the fucker wins? If you never brought it up, there would be no way you would have expose Joe nor win that series. I don’t care what he says about that shit. Johnnyking315: Don’t tell him that, he believes he handed me that win Adam: And he still believes its fine to cyber with every under age female who joins his feds Johnnyking315: Could happen to anyone Adam: The Fuck it can! Adam: Listen John I have to run, but go into NLWF with a open eye. Joe is still Joe. He’ll use Cyber Sex to build up his rep and a few months the thriller will return, kiss your ass to become DX take181 then use you and toss you aside like he always did. Adam: Just reminded people that it isn’t just old JWF vets who dislike Joe. There’s a reason he is banned from RK and everywhere else. For crying out load just use the spam show on RK as a rp and you win hands down. Johnnyking315: Tru Adam: Alright kid, Im off this Adam Signed off…
..:: With my browser closed, all that exists is a blank page and a blinking cursor. I could fill this slate up for pages and hours... but without anything relevant to say, this story would still be nothing more than a white slate. Only now it’s a little dirty. ::.. ..:: A narrative like this wasn’t supposed to continue to a point like this. Wasn’t. But there are a lot of things that you can never expect... never plan for... never anticipate... and the next thing you know, real life is fucking you in the ass. ::.. ..:: This isn’t real life, but it sure feels like it sometimes. It’s a portion of who I am and whenever someone is dealing with a sense of self, they should take pride in that. Who the fuck am I to place myself on this pedestal, emotionally void as a “benefactor” of a glory that doesn’t really exist? ::.. ..:: I’ve pondered this for months. About ten months, to be exact, but that’s beside the point. The fact of the matter is that’s all I’ve done. I sat in the corner with a bitter respite towards anyone and everything for the simple sake that I wouldn’t be dealt with. As a scribe, my creation became less grandiose and ridiculous in nature... traded for malicious and meticulous thinking, abrasive and obnoxious speaking. It was a defense mechanism for what I had to do. ::.. ..:: Because who am I but someone’s employee? Here I am bending to the artistic will of a man, because he’s the moderator of our competitive juxtaposition. It was rather clear that my antics would require planning and cooperation, and the ability to craft a wonderful story like I’ve been known to do from time to time. With odds stacked against me, what could I do but force my way to the top? ::.. ..:: The rest is history. ::.. ..:: I believe the words from our roster were “I don’t want him up there so quickly.” Don’t quote me on that, but there was a bit of hesitance from what was an alliance between a man too trusting and another too flaky. There would be many of these alliances to come, many that I’d just observe from my corner and off-handedly say something striking like “Give it a week,” or the even wittier, “Give it a week until the newness wears off.” ..:: And I was forced to build. Too many close calls came and went and to be honest, perhaps my creation wasn’t creative enough to achieve the top-bill. It was perfect that it eluded him for the time that it had, because it made the fact that he’d attained it that much more sweet. Once on top, there was nothing more to deal with now that his predecessor had pushed the hobby to the backseat. ::.. ..:: A few careless defenses and poor planning later, I’m back at that peg... one notch below. So, being that my competitive streak hadn’t been the strongest lately, and the fact that there were a few busy moments in-between real life once again, I decided to take an innovative approach to a creative build. I sacrifice the dignity of my character and my reputation as a competitive participant; merely for the sake of looking mediocre. ::.. ..:: And when opportunity arrived, once again, I snatched away. Once again, I forced myself in a position where there was nothing I could do... but take it. ::.. …:: Wow, and just in time for a wonderful break. ::.. ..:: But I’m digressing from the point. The one common factor in all of these events is because these contests are just that. And, by nature, they must be decided. Just like this piece right here. ::.. …:: Throughout my first successful tenure in competitive roleplaying, and most successful attempt at this hobby in general, I’ve come to groom my own ideals and approach in terms of style and theme. It’s because every creation has a specific purpose... and every creator that drives more than likely has an expressive and personal story to share. So what was my creative drive? ::.. ..:: What was the reason of existence for something as bleak as SBK? ::.. ..:: NOTHING. ::.. ..:: That’s it! Not a damn thing. As a “benefactor,” I help my creation benefit by getting stoned and thinking too much about stupid shit until it snowballs, forming the stupid shit you’ve read before and you’re reading now. ::.. ..:: But that isn’t good enough, apparently. ::.. ..:: Before I thought it was about telling a story; compelling and introspective were all bonuses. I am more than capable of crafting a story that’s more than substantial, with those compelling and introspective bits gratefully accepted as icing on the cake. ::.. ..:: It was just one more analysis of the same thing I’m talking about now... dressed with comedic and subliminal undertones of what I’d really do given the chance. For that’s what I was doing; vicariously living through a paper creation. But nowadays, just ‘living’ isn’t enough. ::.. ..:: Now it’s about babies and drugs and murder and struggle. Oh, and racism. I’ve dipped my hand in the pot in a few of these topics but by no means am I going to be grounded by a simple theme. Sure, the topic of narcotics has been a backbone in my creation and how it progresses on paper and in story. But by all means, I figured that because most of my stories could be absolved of these elements and still hold a lot of weight, I was more than in the clear. ::.. ..:: I was wrong. ::.. ..:: Am I not introspective enough? Is my work not reaching out with a touching message like these people seem to convey so well with their ‘themes’? Do I need to write about Islamic fundamentalism and it’s collision with Hebrew placement? I’ve got personal issues I could touch up on... I’ve wanted to hide them from you if only to save yourselves, but if it’s personal struggle and irony that you want... ::.. ..:: Apparently, I need a reason for writing... no, no, a reason for living. Because a teenager half the world away, apparently, thinks babies are the tits and giggles these days. Is that what it’s all about? Is that how I’m supposed to get people gripped by my words? Or is it that certain sense of diction that I could never be able to duplicate, no matter how hard I try? Is it just the way that the words come together for the others; they just don’t assemble right when they’re pressed by my fingers? ::.. ..:: It’s a certain sense of personal frustration that resonates with the approach to every day life. Certain elements outside of the hobby tend to take shape, and of course to an over-active mind one would think God was shitting on them. ::.. ..:: I’m not the type, but it’s been a hell of a few weeks for me to notice them like I have. To relegate it all to electronic wrestling is fucking silly and stupid. The best I can do... is relate. That’s all I’ve ever done in this game... relate my reactions onto a character that I once created to be nothing like myself. Oh how subliminal the pen works from the hand. But now, just projecting your sense of self and attempting to tell a wonderful story is not enough. ::.. ..:: Now, I’ve got to tell stories about fucking babies, and personal crisis. Well since it’s been hand fed to me, let’s make this theme a baby cluster fuck. Maybe it’ll be enough to make a teenager, half the world away, puke in over-abundance of baby. It may not be as ironic as a racist adopting a black child, after committing murder no less, but hell…::.. ..:: All we can do is try. and convince. ::..
Did I just break a unwritten rule of efedding? Are we always supposed to stay in character when are character is in question? I know why Cyber Punk pulled a Mick Foley and re invited the segment ‘This is your life’ without the ex girlfriend, and gym teacher. Because he wanted to drag me out. It worked He wants me to come back to another crappy segment. Just because he read my Mona Lisa and decided it was flawless doesn’t mean he didn’t read it. Anyone who readed it or ’Watched’ it understood that it was anything but typical Styles. Anyone who took the time, (a fed head maybe), would und understand that I took the ego that was Cyber Punk and made him look a fool. I took the art he takes credit in perfecting and destroyed him with it. And it is killing him The same way he was able to beat Steven (not that the kid was anything special to begin with) and Crimson Skull, I used it…Flipped it ten folds and made it a work of art. Far from the reach Cyber Punk could ever achieve. And what he do in return? The Day in the Life of Styles Seems my life is the only thing that gives Cyber Punk any meaning. For two years I’ve been on the mind of Cyber Punk. For Two…Long…Years SBK was the only thing on his mind. Where I had no idea Cyber Punk was still around. I was to busy becoming a global icon. And you want to why I bring this up? Because it kills him. In the eyes of Cyber Punk Johnny Styles is nothing with out Joe Santiago. (Which is odd because if there was no Joe, there would be no puppet named Cyber Punk.) I’m sorry to be the one to expose this factor. To be blunt I didn’t think this would ever get to this level. But you couldn’t help but try to slander my character with the past. You have signed your own death sentence The sad thing is that Joe Santiago’s tainted name has to be brought up in this battle. Almost like there is a piece of the thriller inside Punk. Pointing out the obvious again. Listen Punk I’m not Thrilled to be dragging him through the mud again. We both did each other dirty, In the world of efedding it happens. But don’t for a second think I was the one who started the revolution against Santiago. Joe was his own worse enemy. Here’s the proof…His own words… Before restarting the JWF, i signed up to other E-FED's to wrestle. I asked for a title shot from each E-FED but everyone told me that i had to earn it like everyone else, well im not everyone else, im "The Thriller" Joe Santiago the greatest wrestler ever. With that said, i decided to bring back the JWF, but since i was already in other E-FEDS i decided to try to steal some wrestlers from the E-FEDS i was in. Now yeah that sounds dirty, telling a bunch of wrestlers to join my E-FED and leave theres butyou have to look at it from my point of view, why build form the ground up, instead of building from the middle. my plan didn't work very well, because these E-fed guys are commited to there E-fed and i couldn't pull anyone away from the wrestling. So I had nothing and decided to end the JWF already, until The Android signed up to the JWF, he agve me the motivation to try harder, so i thought of a new idea, bring back some JWF Grapeview years members. The JWF Grapeview years were always my favorite time doing the JWF, The Natural Born Thrillers, Cole (vs) Karl, Great times. So as i re-build the legacy of the JWF i wont forget the history, to the E-FEDS i tried to steal from, i accept your apology! Admitting to jacking talent? A carnal sin and the reason he is banned from every corner of every efed community. So I ask you Punk ,how am I the bad guy, when it was Joe who was burning the bridges, and leaving himself isolated on a deserted island? Everyone is looking at me like im a guy, when really im an E-FED Masterbater. people have been saying its wrong to steal wrestlers from E-FEDS and start my own. well i say, fuck ME Up THE GOAT ASS . Any great owner knows to start a buisness you need people, i did what eric bishoff did, i took it up the ass and then went to the best Wrestling places i could find and i attempted to steal there wrestlers. So What! now to the ESW, i didn't try to steal any of your guys, cause as far as im concerned your a BLPW rip off adn you Suck. if you don't get it by now, and i know you sinclaires aren't very smart, I Quit, Which means you can take my name of your roster, your match card, and anywhere else my name is or we can make this a legal matter, Get it, Got it, Good. Now the JWF is gonna be the Best E-FED in the World Once Again and no one is gonna stop me!!! If there is anyone in the ESW that wants to join, I'll think about it, but your gonna have to try harder cause the ESW is a Joke! His Ego was always to big. A common factor you both share. Joe always made this out to believe that it was a reality wrestling show. He forgot it was a game. I think your slowly forgetting yourself. I mean who else uses the Out Of Character board, while in Character? Maybe its time to ‘separate’ from another personality…Time to be your own person Punk. You killed Shadow. Now its time for you to kill the Thriller. You can never be as good as me Cyber Pink, not even if you are the fed head. You can't be me, not in your wildest fantasy. It's childish; I’m sitting here in my room asking myself why should I have to resort to violence to finally make this kid realize he’s nothing special. You could have just ask me to consult your work, And I would have been more then happy to show you how to stay off my dick. That's the thing I hate the most, can't even call you a man. When you gotta call out my name to get you some fans. You have no talent, you need direction to be blunt… You’re a pussy with a yeast infection I'm the last real cat alive in this game… Do you Realize, how many classics battles I gave you and everyone else? Perhaps if you think back you'll realize that I made you Punk You can't be me, You don’t have the heart. You don’t have what it takes to be anything outside the comfort of walls built by the same fed head. You have to be as Evil as Hitler's hate-race people. Every Superstar reach for your pens and papers. I’m gonna give you a free lesson of how to be something special. How to be the total opposite of Cyber Pink Lesson one be creative; Show the world what you made of. Because in this game you only get on chance. And please understand, to battle SBK should never be in your plan. I'm the last real superstar alive, understand that. And I consider you my offspring Cyber Pink. I created JWF to the heights it was before it became tainted. I created the multiple alters of One man. A bulletproof Porsche are things that are hard for you to understand. Why SBK after Four years strong is still the king. Play me a gangster's theme, while you try to entertain me Cyber Punk. If I ain't crying, nor laughing, hate to break it to you, but its off to the den for you. To the lions is where I shall throw your ass come Sunday. What the fuck were you thinking Punk? - - FIN - - |