Post by doc on Apr 27, 2010 12:36:40 GMT -6
I hate sitting here in the dark. Lying in my bed, dreaming a conscious dream of insanity. I thought it was just losing that was keeping me up every night, but it wasn't. It was the cause of my loss which was keeping me up. It was the tumor to my cancer. A tumor diagnosed as Sephiroth du Lac. Me? I prefer to call him Seph. Nice and short. Punchy. Sounds good when you're rattling off in front of a camera, trying to sound all tough and **** before a big match. But in the loneliness of the night, who are you going to sound tough to? There's nobody to lie to other than the one person who already knows you're lying - yourself. So you just sit there, staring, thinking. Your defense mechanisms go to sleep with the rest of your body, but your mind is very much awake, a pistol with the safety off, with the potential to do more damage than bares thinking about. It catches you with your guard down.
I reason that it's probably worse for a man than a woman, but I can't really say for sure of course. But, I mean, a woman has less social expectations to live up to. A man has to be a man in every scenario. He feels like he can't share his emotions. He bottles them up, but they remain there until he's tossing and turning in his bed, when he can't run or hide from his thoughts. And then the cork pops; but there's no taste of champagne. Just the salty taste of your own tears dripping from your cheek to your tongue.
One of my recurring my thoughts is my greatest fear. Reaching the age of 50, looking back at a life wasted, wondering why I never done anything more with it, longing to go back to the days of youth and alter courses completely. That's the image which provides the courage to roll my shoulder up at the last second, just when you think you've got me beat. What's a night or two in hospital compared to a life of regret?
Life is a funny old game, and we've all been forced to play. But something separates the elite from the common, something called drive. Drive is the difference between dreams and reality.
That particular thought echoes in my head for a minute or two. Drive is the difference between dreams and reality. Sometimes I wonder if what I've become for this business is obsessive. I've given everything for this, I've bet a life I can't afford to gamble. And it all boils down to what we call "the match". Usually less than half an hour of a week will determine whether it's win, or bust.
Win, or bust.
That's what it's come down to between me and my tumor. Win, or bust. Ever since he won the Xtreme Title Seph has been a thorn in my side, yet ever so elusive. I just can't seem to get my hands on him. Every time I do, he seems to be one step ahead of me. He isn't even the same man I faced less than a month ago. Winning that belt has given him newfound confidence and focus, and he's determined that I wont be taking it from him. What can I say, he's probably right, I probably wont be. He didn't get the upper hand over me twice on Collision because of 'luck'. He has been pretty much unstoppable recently. Everyone is expecting so much from me, but Seph is the real favorite here. I honestly don't know if I can do this. I don't.
But I have to is what I keep telling myself anyway. There is no other alternative. Win, or bust. Seph might well walk out of A Night to Remember still the Xtreme Champion, but I guarantee that he will do so only after beating every ounce of being out my lifeless body. Is that what you're ready to do, Seph? Because if it isn't, then you're probably not going to do enough to keep me down.
And who knows then, maybe you'll drop your guard for a second and I'll get lucky.
Doc eventually got to sleep at some point last night, but he can't quite remember when. Probably somewhere around five or six in the morning, not too bad. He looked over to his alarm clock. 10:00. Oversleeping on his part, but he didn't care. He was grateful that he didn't have to worry about getting up and cooking breakfast for himself. There was a beautiful woman, possibly the only woman he's begun to care for in that sense his entire life, moving somewhere beyond the door and walls of the bedroom, cleaning her house and making him something just right to get him started for the day. Part of him wishes she would forget about menial chores and come back to bed. He enjoyed taking his mind off his dark thoughts for a while last night, but eventually Julie fell asleep with her back to him, curled up in a ball with her duvet around her. And then things were back to normal. The insomnia. The voices. The loneliness.
"Rise and shine you lazy so-and-so!"
Right on cue, Julie enters the bedroom holding a roll and a glass of orange juice. Something to freshen Doc up while he relaxes in the bed. In an hour or so, he will be training as if his life depended on it, and the comfort of lazing around in bed will seem like a pipe dream.
"I'm up, I'm up!"
Doc greets her with a grin. She was a little late with her wake-up call. She didn't mind though. If anything, she was a little anxious to wake up someone she still hadn't known for too long.
"Take this, give yourself some energy before you get started with that ridiculous training you do."
Doc takes the roll and juice from her with a smile and lets out a little laugh as he does so. Julie seems to notice this and respond to his laugh.
"Oh come on, it is ridiculous. If you needed the money I would understand. But to put yourself through that...I mean, I'm just saying. I know you love doing it though. So as long as you are, you just have to be the best. For me."
She plants a kiss on Doc's forehead and begins shifting through a collection of modest dresses in her wardrobe, talking still as she does so. Quite the little chatterbox.
"This is a big match you have coming up, right?"
He chuckles. Such innocence.
"Yeah, it...it's definitely a big one."
"Are you confident?"
"Oh yeah, I'm confident...I just, I don't know. I mean...yeah, I am confident."
"You don't sound so sure."
"I'm not sure of anything right now. Confidence travels through valleys and peaks. Some days I feel like I can do it, some days I feel like I can't."
"You did beat this guy before though, right? Not too long ago?"
"Yeah. It's not really comparable though. He has been outstanding recently and has seemingly taken on a new lease of life by winning the Xtreme Title. There's no way he's going to want to lose that belt to me."
Julie finally picks out a dress she likes and takes it out of the wardrobe, then turns and looks at Doc.
"I'm not so sure, Doc. I think this has more to do with your own mentality than what your opponent is capable of. You haven't really seemed the same since losing."
She continues to look at Doc as she utters a statement proving how well she has come to know the real him. He takes a bite of his roll, and seems to consider his response while chewing.
"I guess you're right. You start to build up an air of invincibility when you don't lose in so long, I guess. But since the tag match, I've been thinking less about being able to win and more about the possibility of losing. Don't get me wrong though Julie, you can't take anything away from the guy I'm facing. Not at all. He is very, very good."
"And so are you. Everybody I know who watches nCw keeps telling me about how great you are. I don't think everyone is just trying to keep me sweet."
Doc smiles, appreciating Julie's attempt to give him a confidence boost.
"It's not always that simple. I'm one of those guys who do my best to put on a show for the fans. People like my opponent are like the bad guys in a play. Even though they do everything really well, nobody likes them, because they're the bad guys. Those people are even harder to beat though. They don't mind stabbing you in the back or using some dirty tactics to get the upper hand. And he has very much had the upper hand over me recently, that's for sure."
"Aww, you poor thing. Why don't you just use dirtier tactics?"
She puts her dress down and leans over Doc, who places the remains of his roll and orange juice on the bedside table. She pout her lips at him with a sexiness which melts him.
"You know, I'm starting to think you're a bad influence on me."
He smirks and pulls her towards him, embracing and kissing her as she sinks in to his arms. We'll fade out there, saving our older male audience having a tricky explanation to give to their wives over what they're watching. Heh.
I reason that it's probably worse for a man than a woman, but I can't really say for sure of course. But, I mean, a woman has less social expectations to live up to. A man has to be a man in every scenario. He feels like he can't share his emotions. He bottles them up, but they remain there until he's tossing and turning in his bed, when he can't run or hide from his thoughts. And then the cork pops; but there's no taste of champagne. Just the salty taste of your own tears dripping from your cheek to your tongue.
One of my recurring my thoughts is my greatest fear. Reaching the age of 50, looking back at a life wasted, wondering why I never done anything more with it, longing to go back to the days of youth and alter courses completely. That's the image which provides the courage to roll my shoulder up at the last second, just when you think you've got me beat. What's a night or two in hospital compared to a life of regret?
Life is a funny old game, and we've all been forced to play. But something separates the elite from the common, something called drive. Drive is the difference between dreams and reality.
That particular thought echoes in my head for a minute or two. Drive is the difference between dreams and reality. Sometimes I wonder if what I've become for this business is obsessive. I've given everything for this, I've bet a life I can't afford to gamble. And it all boils down to what we call "the match". Usually less than half an hour of a week will determine whether it's win, or bust.
Win, or bust.
That's what it's come down to between me and my tumor. Win, or bust. Ever since he won the Xtreme Title Seph has been a thorn in my side, yet ever so elusive. I just can't seem to get my hands on him. Every time I do, he seems to be one step ahead of me. He isn't even the same man I faced less than a month ago. Winning that belt has given him newfound confidence and focus, and he's determined that I wont be taking it from him. What can I say, he's probably right, I probably wont be. He didn't get the upper hand over me twice on Collision because of 'luck'. He has been pretty much unstoppable recently. Everyone is expecting so much from me, but Seph is the real favorite here. I honestly don't know if I can do this. I don't.
But I have to is what I keep telling myself anyway. There is no other alternative. Win, or bust. Seph might well walk out of A Night to Remember still the Xtreme Champion, but I guarantee that he will do so only after beating every ounce of being out my lifeless body. Is that what you're ready to do, Seph? Because if it isn't, then you're probably not going to do enough to keep me down.
And who knows then, maybe you'll drop your guard for a second and I'll get lucky.
Doc eventually got to sleep at some point last night, but he can't quite remember when. Probably somewhere around five or six in the morning, not too bad. He looked over to his alarm clock. 10:00. Oversleeping on his part, but he didn't care. He was grateful that he didn't have to worry about getting up and cooking breakfast for himself. There was a beautiful woman, possibly the only woman he's begun to care for in that sense his entire life, moving somewhere beyond the door and walls of the bedroom, cleaning her house and making him something just right to get him started for the day. Part of him wishes she would forget about menial chores and come back to bed. He enjoyed taking his mind off his dark thoughts for a while last night, but eventually Julie fell asleep with her back to him, curled up in a ball with her duvet around her. And then things were back to normal. The insomnia. The voices. The loneliness.
"Rise and shine you lazy so-and-so!"
Right on cue, Julie enters the bedroom holding a roll and a glass of orange juice. Something to freshen Doc up while he relaxes in the bed. In an hour or so, he will be training as if his life depended on it, and the comfort of lazing around in bed will seem like a pipe dream.
"I'm up, I'm up!"
Doc greets her with a grin. She was a little late with her wake-up call. She didn't mind though. If anything, she was a little anxious to wake up someone she still hadn't known for too long.
"Take this, give yourself some energy before you get started with that ridiculous training you do."
Doc takes the roll and juice from her with a smile and lets out a little laugh as he does so. Julie seems to notice this and respond to his laugh.
"Oh come on, it is ridiculous. If you needed the money I would understand. But to put yourself through that...I mean, I'm just saying. I know you love doing it though. So as long as you are, you just have to be the best. For me."
She plants a kiss on Doc's forehead and begins shifting through a collection of modest dresses in her wardrobe, talking still as she does so. Quite the little chatterbox.
"This is a big match you have coming up, right?"
He chuckles. Such innocence.
"Yeah, it...it's definitely a big one."
"Are you confident?"
"Oh yeah, I'm confident...I just, I don't know. I mean...yeah, I am confident."
"You don't sound so sure."
"I'm not sure of anything right now. Confidence travels through valleys and peaks. Some days I feel like I can do it, some days I feel like I can't."
"You did beat this guy before though, right? Not too long ago?"
"Yeah. It's not really comparable though. He has been outstanding recently and has seemingly taken on a new lease of life by winning the Xtreme Title. There's no way he's going to want to lose that belt to me."
Julie finally picks out a dress she likes and takes it out of the wardrobe, then turns and looks at Doc.
"I'm not so sure, Doc. I think this has more to do with your own mentality than what your opponent is capable of. You haven't really seemed the same since losing."
She continues to look at Doc as she utters a statement proving how well she has come to know the real him. He takes a bite of his roll, and seems to consider his response while chewing.
"I guess you're right. You start to build up an air of invincibility when you don't lose in so long, I guess. But since the tag match, I've been thinking less about being able to win and more about the possibility of losing. Don't get me wrong though Julie, you can't take anything away from the guy I'm facing. Not at all. He is very, very good."
"And so are you. Everybody I know who watches nCw keeps telling me about how great you are. I don't think everyone is just trying to keep me sweet."
Doc smiles, appreciating Julie's attempt to give him a confidence boost.
"It's not always that simple. I'm one of those guys who do my best to put on a show for the fans. People like my opponent are like the bad guys in a play. Even though they do everything really well, nobody likes them, because they're the bad guys. Those people are even harder to beat though. They don't mind stabbing you in the back or using some dirty tactics to get the upper hand. And he has very much had the upper hand over me recently, that's for sure."
"Aww, you poor thing. Why don't you just use dirtier tactics?"
She puts her dress down and leans over Doc, who places the remains of his roll and orange juice on the bedside table. She pout her lips at him with a sexiness which melts him.
"You know, I'm starting to think you're a bad influence on me."
He smirks and pulls her towards him, embracing and kissing her as she sinks in to his arms. We'll fade out there, saving our older male audience having a tricky explanation to give to their wives over what they're watching. Heh.