Post by Emma Danielson on Apr 13, 2013 22:46:38 GMT -6
I said my piece on Kathy and Jenny. But I can't waste all my anger on the people who, at times in name only, were my allies. I've got to think of my enemies too. Might as well work my way up...let's start with Charity. Wow, have I really been acting like a moron that long? You would have thought that Zelda would teach me not to underestimate people from a family like that. Point of this all is, you’re better than I thought you were.
But then, you also think you’re better than you are. For all the feigned humility, you’re still arrogant. And why wouldn’t you be? First match ever, you beat a former World Champion. And there were nights where that ate at me. But I’ve had to grow up and get over it. Just like Zelda, in the grand scheme of things I can’t let one person eat away at me until all that’s left is a bitter, twisted shell of a person. I’ve got bigger things in mind than bitching about losses that I can’t change. You’re not better than me. You’re just luckier than me.
You and Jasmine Barrera seem to think you can judge my career choices, telling me I don’t deserve to be here, that I’m in the wrong business, telling me to reevaluate my career. Well, **** YOU!
Neither of you have the right to tell me what I should do, because you haven’t earned it. Nobody in this company, from Zelda Knite to Kelly Fox to Roberto Verona himself has that right. I don’t know if you understand what drives me, and I’m sure you don’t care. People like you, they don’t give a damn about who they’re up against. They just reply with the same flippant arrogance, no matter who it is. They condescend, and they mock, and they have no idea what the other person’s suffered through to even be here.
Tell me this, Jazz, in all your talk about how tough you had it, down in “the hood”, did you ever pull your head out of your ****ing ass and think about what you were saying? You act like nobody else has known loss, known pain…I had to watch my mother buried when I was five years old, you callous bitch. I had to watch my father spiral into booze and depression because the love of his life had been ripped away from him, and there was nothing I could do about it! I hated myself for it, because all little Emma knew was that Daddy was sad and she couldn’t fix it.
I tried to find friends at school, but they all rejected me. They called me a freak, they made fun of the fact that my mother was dead, they shunned me. So I stopped being that bright-eyed little girl. She died, and the person I am was born. I hit the weights. I started smoking, getting into fights, anything I could to piss off the people around me, because they’d already made up their mind that I was a lost cause and a freak to be ostracized. I gave them a reason to hate and fear me.
But beating the **** out of anyone who thought they could step up to me got boring. The faces started flowing together, one after another. I wanted something more. So I started hunting for another way to get out this anger that I’d felt my entire life…and I found wrestling. Not clean wrestling, like it is here in NCW. No, this was garbage wrestling, hardcore brawling, with chairs and thumbtacks and barbed wire and tables. This was bloodsport. And I reveled in it, because it was that release. I didn’t have to go home and see the man that was supposed to be my guardian and teacher, halfway through a case of Grain Belt and a pack of Marlboros, too incoherent to even tell me that he loved me.
I hated people. I hated them so much. Andrew was the one person that listened. He listened to me, and he understood me, and he helped pull me out of that darkness…and then just when I thought that things were going to get better, he went halfway across the country, and I lost myself again. I hit the booze, because if it helped Dad ease the pain, it should work for me, right? And I liked it. I liked the taste, I liked the feeling it gave me. I felt invincible. So I got into nastier fights. I ended up in emergency rooms. And maybe I didn’t have corpses lining the streets, but I damn sure hurt. I hurt every time I looked myself in the mirror and I saw my mother staring back at me. Disapproving of what I’d become. So don’t tell me I can’t understand, bitch. I understand all too well…and I’ll make you realize just how well I understand pain.
And then it comes to the Pixelated Princess herself. Can’t believe that name stuck, to be honest. It was just something I tossed out there, in the heat of things. I’m…I’m done being angry at you. It’s just not worth it anymore. You want to be champion again? Fine. I’ll fight you, but I won’t hate you like you want me to. I won’t be your ogre anymore, princess. Because at the end of it all…you won.
You got your army of Zombies, you got acclaim beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, you broke the hearts of every man in this company, you secured your place as one of the most popular and successful wrestlers in company history, and you came out of it all smelling like roses. You turned A Night To Remember into Your Night To Remember and you didn’t even have to follow through. You stole Charlie Velez’s legacy and the people went nuts for it. You’re a Hall of Famer, an icon, probably the only thing people will remember about this company’s women…and it kills me. But I can’t hate you.
What’s the hate going to do me? You’ll shrug it off, call me a big smelly ogre transvestite, and win again. Because you’re Zelda Knite. I’ve given up the obsession. I’ll live if I never beat you. I’ll just move on and deal with it. Like I should have dealt with it the first time…
…but what if I do? What if this is the moment where the impossible happens? If you listen to some people, it should be impossible for me to be here. What do you think, Zelda? Do you still think I’m not worthy? Or, after gutting it out all this time, am I something more than what you’ve always seen me as? Doesn’t much bother me either way. I just want to know what you think. And I want to know which Zelda we’re getting. Are you going to sleepwalk through this match, Z?
Or are you going to remind the world just what the name Zelda Knite means? There’s a little part of me that wants the first one…but there’s an even bigger part that wants the second. I want that fight. If I go down here, I want to go down swinging. We were the first. That very first match…you, me and Ayla, we started this…so let’s go out with a bang. What do you say? Ready for one last round?
I don’t want to fade away. I don’t want this to end quietly, peacefully, uneventfully. I want to go out as loudly and memorably as we can. After all, it’s better to burn out than fade away. And I want to burn as bright as we can. Because even though I want this win, and I want it bad, I also want to make sure that the women of NCW are remembered the way they should be: stealing the show. The World Title? The men’s Coliseum? Who cares? I want everyone to remember this match. And on top of that…I want to be the one they see standing tall at the end of things. And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.
Nobody wants to know what my internal troubles are. They don't care about my personal life, or the questions I need to answer. They just care about what I do in this match. Or the next one. Or the next. So I'll give them that. I'll give them the best of the worst. I'll give them the Queen of Extreme...even if nobody else wants to see her. Because I haven't seen her in a while...and it's about time she reminded the world she exists.
Say your prayers...
But then, you also think you’re better than you are. For all the feigned humility, you’re still arrogant. And why wouldn’t you be? First match ever, you beat a former World Champion. And there were nights where that ate at me. But I’ve had to grow up and get over it. Just like Zelda, in the grand scheme of things I can’t let one person eat away at me until all that’s left is a bitter, twisted shell of a person. I’ve got bigger things in mind than bitching about losses that I can’t change. You’re not better than me. You’re just luckier than me.
You and Jasmine Barrera seem to think you can judge my career choices, telling me I don’t deserve to be here, that I’m in the wrong business, telling me to reevaluate my career. Well, **** YOU!
Neither of you have the right to tell me what I should do, because you haven’t earned it. Nobody in this company, from Zelda Knite to Kelly Fox to Roberto Verona himself has that right. I don’t know if you understand what drives me, and I’m sure you don’t care. People like you, they don’t give a damn about who they’re up against. They just reply with the same flippant arrogance, no matter who it is. They condescend, and they mock, and they have no idea what the other person’s suffered through to even be here.
Tell me this, Jazz, in all your talk about how tough you had it, down in “the hood”, did you ever pull your head out of your ****ing ass and think about what you were saying? You act like nobody else has known loss, known pain…I had to watch my mother buried when I was five years old, you callous bitch. I had to watch my father spiral into booze and depression because the love of his life had been ripped away from him, and there was nothing I could do about it! I hated myself for it, because all little Emma knew was that Daddy was sad and she couldn’t fix it.
I tried to find friends at school, but they all rejected me. They called me a freak, they made fun of the fact that my mother was dead, they shunned me. So I stopped being that bright-eyed little girl. She died, and the person I am was born. I hit the weights. I started smoking, getting into fights, anything I could to piss off the people around me, because they’d already made up their mind that I was a lost cause and a freak to be ostracized. I gave them a reason to hate and fear me.
But beating the **** out of anyone who thought they could step up to me got boring. The faces started flowing together, one after another. I wanted something more. So I started hunting for another way to get out this anger that I’d felt my entire life…and I found wrestling. Not clean wrestling, like it is here in NCW. No, this was garbage wrestling, hardcore brawling, with chairs and thumbtacks and barbed wire and tables. This was bloodsport. And I reveled in it, because it was that release. I didn’t have to go home and see the man that was supposed to be my guardian and teacher, halfway through a case of Grain Belt and a pack of Marlboros, too incoherent to even tell me that he loved me.
I hated people. I hated them so much. Andrew was the one person that listened. He listened to me, and he understood me, and he helped pull me out of that darkness…and then just when I thought that things were going to get better, he went halfway across the country, and I lost myself again. I hit the booze, because if it helped Dad ease the pain, it should work for me, right? And I liked it. I liked the taste, I liked the feeling it gave me. I felt invincible. So I got into nastier fights. I ended up in emergency rooms. And maybe I didn’t have corpses lining the streets, but I damn sure hurt. I hurt every time I looked myself in the mirror and I saw my mother staring back at me. Disapproving of what I’d become. So don’t tell me I can’t understand, bitch. I understand all too well…and I’ll make you realize just how well I understand pain.
And then it comes to the Pixelated Princess herself. Can’t believe that name stuck, to be honest. It was just something I tossed out there, in the heat of things. I’m…I’m done being angry at you. It’s just not worth it anymore. You want to be champion again? Fine. I’ll fight you, but I won’t hate you like you want me to. I won’t be your ogre anymore, princess. Because at the end of it all…you won.
You got your army of Zombies, you got acclaim beyond anyone’s wildest dreams, you broke the hearts of every man in this company, you secured your place as one of the most popular and successful wrestlers in company history, and you came out of it all smelling like roses. You turned A Night To Remember into Your Night To Remember and you didn’t even have to follow through. You stole Charlie Velez’s legacy and the people went nuts for it. You’re a Hall of Famer, an icon, probably the only thing people will remember about this company’s women…and it kills me. But I can’t hate you.
What’s the hate going to do me? You’ll shrug it off, call me a big smelly ogre transvestite, and win again. Because you’re Zelda Knite. I’ve given up the obsession. I’ll live if I never beat you. I’ll just move on and deal with it. Like I should have dealt with it the first time…
…but what if I do? What if this is the moment where the impossible happens? If you listen to some people, it should be impossible for me to be here. What do you think, Zelda? Do you still think I’m not worthy? Or, after gutting it out all this time, am I something more than what you’ve always seen me as? Doesn’t much bother me either way. I just want to know what you think. And I want to know which Zelda we’re getting. Are you going to sleepwalk through this match, Z?
Or are you going to remind the world just what the name Zelda Knite means? There’s a little part of me that wants the first one…but there’s an even bigger part that wants the second. I want that fight. If I go down here, I want to go down swinging. We were the first. That very first match…you, me and Ayla, we started this…so let’s go out with a bang. What do you say? Ready for one last round?
I don’t want to fade away. I don’t want this to end quietly, peacefully, uneventfully. I want to go out as loudly and memorably as we can. After all, it’s better to burn out than fade away. And I want to burn as bright as we can. Because even though I want this win, and I want it bad, I also want to make sure that the women of NCW are remembered the way they should be: stealing the show. The World Title? The men’s Coliseum? Who cares? I want everyone to remember this match. And on top of that…I want to be the one they see standing tall at the end of things. And I will do whatever it takes to make that happen.
Nobody wants to know what my internal troubles are. They don't care about my personal life, or the questions I need to answer. They just care about what I do in this match. Or the next one. Or the next. So I'll give them that. I'll give them the best of the worst. I'll give them the Queen of Extreme...even if nobody else wants to see her. Because I haven't seen her in a while...and it's about time she reminded the world she exists.
Say your prayers...