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"You have to give up. You have to realize that some day you will die, and until then, you are useless." Utterly, hopelessly useless. The Saints are slowly crumbling and they refuse to believe in their own demise. They refuse to admit their own failures, no matter how blatant they've become. Slowly but surely they're slipping into the abyss, and clinging onto the fallen shards of their fallen empire is only prolonging the inevitable. They fail to realize that their purpose to the NLCW has been served and now they're nothing more then another part of the same compost heap as anyone else, now that Galen is without the world title. They fail to realize that since they've failed, they cannot go anywhere else in this federation. Galen has FAILED, and is quickly losing trust from them...and now the NLCW World Title is sitting pretty in the hands of a worthy champion. The Saints are done for, it's over. Sean Galen has failed. Dillon Durst has failed. And this Thursday they will fail once more. Galen...he just pisses people off, and makes them hate him, then wonders why. He's is like a small child, destined to never understand nor comprehend the world around him until he finally learns to grow and mature, understanding more of the ways of life and understanding what he must do to be successful again. Without the paranoia...without the drugs and without the corruption. But for now, Galen is just a child, and Durst? Well, Durst is just the little brother he bosses around. Have fun with your material items, your tonka trucks and your sandboxes...boys. Meanwhile, I've got a ladder to climb, I've got a mountain to scale, and I've got a dream to fulfill. My kingdom awaits...yet it's still so far away. But I have a feeling, and I doubt that it's wrong, that some day soon...I'll be sitting pretty on that fucking throne, and I'll give those fans someone to believe in. |