Post by logan on Feb 11, 2006 10:31:56 GMT -5
Still fighting the lost cause?
The years skipped like rocks on water, flying by like a fire fly with no lights. Today was my birthday, I was reaching my late thirties but I dared let age get to me, or others for that matter. I stared down at the WCF world belt shining in my hands, it brought joy to me, and honor. This title has been the love of my life for the last seven years, and we we're back again. Today wasn't like any other day, well, not because it was my birthday, but over the fact that certain "old friends" we're trying to come back. This old friend was aggression, rage, and hate. I never looked "him" in the face, unless I was staring at myself in the mirror. The old familiar feeling was Butch, fighting to come out. For anyone who has been under a rock for the last five years, or just never paid attention to give a damn about it.. Butch was my alter ego, so to speak. I developed a spilt personality disorder over the years, and my spilt personality was a little friend we called Butch. Not that it'd take me over, but I'd usually just end up arguing with myself, or changing plans from time to time. I grew a costume to it over the years, and I figured it'd come back when I started gaining power again. I knew it was coming back, I knew the old feeling, and I knew it'd be just a matter of time before I'd be arguing with my alter ego again. I couldn't have that. I thought I put Butch behind, in the past. But when at least expect it, he always comes back. I didn't know what to do about it, and I had no attention of letting him come back while I was holding the WCF world belt. That was too much stress on my head, not for me. The only answer I could think of was calling my shrink that I use to see on a regular basis when I use to have this spilt personality issue. I was sitting in a hotel room, just getting off the phone with my ex wife about divorce papers, and what she wanted.. so the phone was still near. I sit the precious title belt next to me on the bed, and picked up the phone. I let her know who it was.
Logan: Hey, it's Logan.
Shrink: Hello, Logan. Long time no talk, how are you doing?
Logan: Pretty good, I just won the WCF belt again.
Shrink: What's that, the fourth time now?
Logan: Yeah, glad to see you’re keeping up.
Shrink: I'm pretty busy right now, so what's the problem?
Logan: No time for chit chatting with your favorite patient?
I heard her sigh over the phone.
Shrink: Logan, get to the point.
Logan: Well, I've been having a feeling that "Butch" is coming back.
Shrink: What about the medicine?
Logan: Well, yeah.. that doesn't work. Besides, it makes me feel too frisky. What's the best time I can come?
Shrink: I'd say a week from now.
Logan: A week? I got a match this Sunday, and I don't want Butch along side with me.. besides, I already have a tag team partner this week. I need to see you as soon as possible.
Shrink: Okay, I might be able to cancel something tomorrow.. but just for you okay?
Logan: Heh, thanks. It's my birthday today anyhow.
Shrink: I got to go, Logan. Come in tomorrow at 10:30 AM.
Hanging up the phone, I took my shoes off laying back on the bed.
Tomorrow, 10:07 AM
It was time to go see my shrink today, and work out a few problems with this "Butch" issue. I didn't want to though, I had to focus on my match this week, more than what was going on inside my head. I felt like I didn't have time to deal with it anymore, like I was fighting a lost cause. I never even made it out of bed that morning, instead I just laid there with my mind spinning inside my head knocking around at my skull. Did I even want to get up, and go wrestle? Nope. I wasn't up for doing anything, but I HAD to. It was my very duty as the WCF champion, I'd be damned if I was going to lie here, and flush it down the drain. I finally sat up in bed, looking down at the WCF championship, and looking at the alarm clock. This was me. Here I was. The only three time, and now, the only four time WCF champion in the seven years of WCF. The only two time War winner. I felt like I did it all, and retirement was the probably the biggest question on anyone’s mind. But not me, I had plans. Rather it was the lack of motivation holding me back, or the pure sweet treachery I was going to inflict to others bringing me in. I had a few things left to do before my name was leaving the belt, or the WCF halls for that matter. But while I was here, I'm going to do exactly what I did the last three times I held that title.. I'm going to hold it the best I can. The WCF belt always inspired me, no reason to give up on it now. It's about time to get up old man. I rose to my feet, grabbing the WCF title, and slinging it over my shoulder.
Logan: I don't need a damn shrink. If Butch wants to come back, let him. I've got bigger things to worry about. Reckless Jack trusts me to be in his corner this Sunday, and I've got to return that trust. We both hate Creeping Death, and Dake Ken. But this Sunday, we're going to put an end to that, and show WCF that "treachery" will no longer be forgotten.
I gave a little wink to the camera, and carried myself to the bathroom with the WCF belt over my shoulder. That's right, your WCF champion, your Logan, your WCF Hall of Famer planned on taking a piss as the WCF champion. I laughed at myself, but I am the champion. I am The Face of Treachery, and I can do whatever the hell I want.
(Sorry for the lack of RP's this week, I've been on a tight schedule as of late.)
The years skipped like rocks on water, flying by like a fire fly with no lights. Today was my birthday, I was reaching my late thirties but I dared let age get to me, or others for that matter. I stared down at the WCF world belt shining in my hands, it brought joy to me, and honor. This title has been the love of my life for the last seven years, and we we're back again. Today wasn't like any other day, well, not because it was my birthday, but over the fact that certain "old friends" we're trying to come back. This old friend was aggression, rage, and hate. I never looked "him" in the face, unless I was staring at myself in the mirror. The old familiar feeling was Butch, fighting to come out. For anyone who has been under a rock for the last five years, or just never paid attention to give a damn about it.. Butch was my alter ego, so to speak. I developed a spilt personality disorder over the years, and my spilt personality was a little friend we called Butch. Not that it'd take me over, but I'd usually just end up arguing with myself, or changing plans from time to time. I grew a costume to it over the years, and I figured it'd come back when I started gaining power again. I knew it was coming back, I knew the old feeling, and I knew it'd be just a matter of time before I'd be arguing with my alter ego again. I couldn't have that. I thought I put Butch behind, in the past. But when at least expect it, he always comes back. I didn't know what to do about it, and I had no attention of letting him come back while I was holding the WCF world belt. That was too much stress on my head, not for me. The only answer I could think of was calling my shrink that I use to see on a regular basis when I use to have this spilt personality issue. I was sitting in a hotel room, just getting off the phone with my ex wife about divorce papers, and what she wanted.. so the phone was still near. I sit the precious title belt next to me on the bed, and picked up the phone. I let her know who it was.
Logan: Hey, it's Logan.
Shrink: Hello, Logan. Long time no talk, how are you doing?
Logan: Pretty good, I just won the WCF belt again.
Shrink: What's that, the fourth time now?
Logan: Yeah, glad to see you’re keeping up.
Shrink: I'm pretty busy right now, so what's the problem?
Logan: No time for chit chatting with your favorite patient?
I heard her sigh over the phone.
Shrink: Logan, get to the point.
Logan: Well, I've been having a feeling that "Butch" is coming back.
Shrink: What about the medicine?
Logan: Well, yeah.. that doesn't work. Besides, it makes me feel too frisky. What's the best time I can come?
Shrink: I'd say a week from now.
Logan: A week? I got a match this Sunday, and I don't want Butch along side with me.. besides, I already have a tag team partner this week. I need to see you as soon as possible.
Shrink: Okay, I might be able to cancel something tomorrow.. but just for you okay?
Logan: Heh, thanks. It's my birthday today anyhow.
Shrink: I got to go, Logan. Come in tomorrow at 10:30 AM.
Hanging up the phone, I took my shoes off laying back on the bed.
Tomorrow, 10:07 AM
It was time to go see my shrink today, and work out a few problems with this "Butch" issue. I didn't want to though, I had to focus on my match this week, more than what was going on inside my head. I felt like I didn't have time to deal with it anymore, like I was fighting a lost cause. I never even made it out of bed that morning, instead I just laid there with my mind spinning inside my head knocking around at my skull. Did I even want to get up, and go wrestle? Nope. I wasn't up for doing anything, but I HAD to. It was my very duty as the WCF champion, I'd be damned if I was going to lie here, and flush it down the drain. I finally sat up in bed, looking down at the WCF championship, and looking at the alarm clock. This was me. Here I was. The only three time, and now, the only four time WCF champion in the seven years of WCF. The only two time War winner. I felt like I did it all, and retirement was the probably the biggest question on anyone’s mind. But not me, I had plans. Rather it was the lack of motivation holding me back, or the pure sweet treachery I was going to inflict to others bringing me in. I had a few things left to do before my name was leaving the belt, or the WCF halls for that matter. But while I was here, I'm going to do exactly what I did the last three times I held that title.. I'm going to hold it the best I can. The WCF belt always inspired me, no reason to give up on it now. It's about time to get up old man. I rose to my feet, grabbing the WCF title, and slinging it over my shoulder.
Logan: I don't need a damn shrink. If Butch wants to come back, let him. I've got bigger things to worry about. Reckless Jack trusts me to be in his corner this Sunday, and I've got to return that trust. We both hate Creeping Death, and Dake Ken. But this Sunday, we're going to put an end to that, and show WCF that "treachery" will no longer be forgotten.
I gave a little wink to the camera, and carried myself to the bathroom with the WCF belt over my shoulder. That's right, your WCF champion, your Logan, your WCF Hall of Famer planned on taking a piss as the WCF champion. I laughed at myself, but I am the champion. I am The Face of Treachery, and I can do whatever the hell I want.
(Sorry for the lack of RP's this week, I've been on a tight schedule as of late.)
