Post by TZ on Feb 21, 2006 10:34:55 GMT -5
The vibrant sound of music rings throughout the night as well as the sounds of plenty of people, both men, and women, walking a gray, cobble-stoned street. However, for those who can not find room in the middle of the street at hand, they clamber onto the brown, slightly wet sidewalk.
Along the sidewalks both to the right, and left, a bountiful array of clubs are found, their large windows dark as people rush inside each of the many the street holds. Many of the doors leading inside of the clubs remain open allowing the vibrant sound of the musical category known as, "blues" to drift out on to the street, and spread from ear to ear that walk it, from one end to the other, each end being blocked at a traffic light by two, or three policemen.
The luminous light from the moon is not the only light that dances through this crowd on this rather dark, and cloudy night, however. The buildings along the street hold many signs, many of them illuminated by bright lights. Those bright lights spread throughout the crowd, causing those who walk just a few feet away from them to slightly squint considering the light radiates so violently off of them from a close range. From large, hanging ads advertising Coca Cola to banners decorated with a wide array of colors showcasing the logos of various clubs this rambunctious street houses, each is visible due to the brilliant light that surround them from lamp post to the natural lights of the sky above.
One sign in particular is hung up more than once along this street. With a forget-me-not blue background, an explosion of bright colors, and dark red logo at the center proclaiming the words, "Beale Street", it can not go unnoticed.
With the sounds of the blues still echoing from hither, and thither, it appears the night is still young for those looking for a wild, and fun night. Whether it be doing away with their troubles through dancing, drinking, listening to the wonderful music, or simply just walking through the hyperactive surroundings, it appears a wide array of people have come here to do just that.
Although, for some reason, it doesn't appear all have that good of a time here on, "Beale Street" . . . at least one man in particular. With his hands in his pockets of his faded, and destroyed jeans, he walks rather slowly, pushing his way through men, and women, letting his head slightly droop as he walks. The light dances over his face, causing his strong jawline to cast a shadow over it, but the shadow is quickly gone due to the fact the sun is not out. His tight, black, t-shirt would go unnoticed in the night without the wide supply of lights surrounding him. He ignores the sound of music around him as the wind blows rather fast, causing his long, brown hair to be sent frolicking with it, dancing throughout the dark night. Taking both hands out of his pockets, he brushes his hair from his eyes with his left hand as the gold, and silver bracelet that rests upon his left wrist slightly jingles as he does so. After doing this, he throws his head back, his hair going with it.
Walking still throughout the mass of people at hand, the individual passes a street vendor outside a rather loud club. The man simply ignores his calls as he continues walking at the same, slow pace, paying no attention to those around him. Suddenly, he steps off of the cobble-stoned street, and over on to the sidewalk where things are less crowded. In doing so, he leans his back up against a dark, red, brick wall. An open door to a dark club is just a few feet to his right, and the vibrant sign for that very same club is placed over his head. The light casting down upon his body, and face, his facial features, and body shape come into view for the very first time tonight. Oddly enough, it's former WFWF World Champion, Justa Mazing. Mazing refuses to budge as people slide past him, occasionally brushing his body, and casting him rude glances due to the fact he is too stubborn to move.
Mazing: Beale Street . . . Memphis, Tennessee . . . A perfect for one looking to find a blues hot spot, or just for a nice night out on the town. I can't honestly favor blues even though I have been feeling rather, well, "blue" lately. I don't like to party either. For one, there's just too much problems that go into the whole process. I don't need anymore problems. I don't drink either. Although, I do often, "reminisce".
The cold air presses against the lips of Mazing as he sticks his tongue out, licking them due to dryness. Beale Street is still as crowded as ever, if not even more than it once was. By now, the music is louder, and the people are wilder than ever.
Mazing: It's funny the shred of happiness my past is able to bring me even though if it does tend to linger on my mind for too long, I become upset. I tend to become upset because no longer do I focus on the finer moments of my career, but the troubled times in which I faltered. I continue to falter. I continue to fail. I'm, "Justa Notha Failure". Just like so many others, I'm living a lie. I'm not, "Justa Mazing". I'm just me. However, I continue to search for a method in which will allow me to evolve to become the man I've always said I am, but have never been. I wish for my past endeavors that were given to me on a luxurious silver platter to become basted with the blood that I shall lose whilst I accomplish them again a new man. It's all apart of change. For one to change, for one to evolve, I've learned it takes much more than, "reminiscing". One must . . . "revisit".
Rubbing his back against the dry yet rather chilly brick in which he rests on, Mazing scratches his left cheek as he does so. The music, the blues, the surrounding sounds continue to exuberate the night at hand.
Mazing: I had barely been in the WFWF a little over year, and my unworthy soul was already WFWF World Champion. I might have beaten ZMaster, but it was a stroke of luck. My whole career has rested upon the shoulder's of, "Lady Luck". I envy those with true talent. In actuality, I have none. I just told myself in the beginning I had what it takes to make it to the top of the WFWF. Confucious makes the claim that if you respect yourself, others will respect you. I believed my own lies, and others began to, too. I road my lie all the way to the top. I thought I was unbreakable. It was as if the more I lied, the more I told myself the facts I knew were false all along, it was like an invisible shield was built around me. It protected me. But, being the lier I am, I told myself that my "true" talent was keeping me from falling off the pedestal I so unrightfully now stood upon. I refused to budge though. I refused to budge until my pedestal of the false truth I built beneath me began to crumble at my feet.
The light above Mazing begins to flicker though it does not go out. Mazing continues to attract attention from club-goers, almost all negative. He stands in their path, their trail to their next party, their next drink, their next indulgence in the subtle sounds of music, of blues.
Mazing: Whilst everyone's goal in the WFWF is to be WFWF World Champion, everyone's dream is to main event SuperBrawl. I was no different. And, being the guy I am, I lied to myself. I told myself I had what it takes to get to that level. I told myself that I was going to main event SuperBrawl. I kept lieing, and lieing repeatedly, the false truth echoing in my head over, and over. And, when I became the WFWF World Champion out of sheer chance, my lies grew. My lies spread. My lies were going to ring true once again. One part of me was ecstatic, the other was mournful for the fact that I continued to lie, I continue to get to where so many hoped to be just by sheer pity, sheer opportunity. The latter prevailed. As soon as the dream had been realized, the nightmare began. My pedestal paltered. My lies destroyed me just as they are now. I left. I was done. I forfeited the WFWF World Championship. I forfeited my spot in the main event at SuperBrawl III . . . my dream . . . my lie.
An airplane soaring through the sky overhead, Mazing cracks his neck, rubbing his right eye. Blinking rather hyper actively, Mazing takes a quick glance at those around him; the musicians, the partiers, the young, the old. As they pass, Mazing's lowers his head, ignoring their comments. He doesn't want to move. He doesn't have the energy to move. He doesn't have the energy to go on.
Mazing: But, I return. I return to the sight of my dream that was never fully realized, my lie that never came to fruition. Memphis, Tennessee, the home of SuperBrawl III. The place I should have been, the place I never was. The place where my lies would fully cultivate at last. Although, I put an end to that. I was done. I left. I put in an end to my lies. I put an end to my career. However, just like my career, that was one big lie. Everyone comes back. I tried to tell myself, I'm not everyone. I tried to tell myself I was Justa Mazing. The lies began again. I'm not Justa Mazing. I was on the road back to the lies, the deceit. I was ready to return to the WFWF.
Suddenly, Mazing moves away from the side of the wall, and begins to walk along the sidewalk, passing other people as he goes. Almost every door to every club is open, and the music continues to flow through the street.
Mazing: And, so the cycle began again; the lieing, the false truth, I had truly returned. "Justa Mazing" was back. Instantly, I turned to the past. I was afraid of going into the future, afraid of starting a new. I told myself that wasn't the case. But, I lied. I turned to Stuart. I wanted to relive the memories of the past. I told myself all I wanted was settle something that was never truly settled. I lied. I was scared. I didn't want to change. I was afraid of going forward. I wanted to rely on my past to carry. And, so it has. That's the truth. After all, in due time, I was back to main eventing Code Red, and Hybrid, what else could I ask for? Maybe the truth. Because, I began to get the feeling, the feeling that pedestal below was crumbling. I didn't know what to do. Heading into a big match at Fully Charged with Stuart, I was scared. My career could be crumbling right before me. But, I lied to myself again. I comforted myself with the false hope I had relied on since day one. I told myself that I was just nervous. I mean, after all, it was my first pay-per-view match since returning. Though, I don't get nervous, and that's not a lie. It was happening all over again; I was about to crash, and burn. I was heading down hill fast. I was going to be gone soon enough. Yet I did something I've never done before; I began to tell the truth. I began to comfort myself not with lies, and deceit, but with truthful lullabies of the future, the past, and the present. The truth dragged me down even faster. Although, I wasn't going to fall. I wasn't going to crumble. I had just lost what I had unrightfully gained all because I began to present myself not in false hope, but in the light of the truth. I showed myself I really was. I'm not Justa Mazing. It's just a gimmick. But, I'm still discovering who I am. I'm still discovering my true self. By sacrificing myself, by leaping from atop the pedestal I had built beneath, I began to change. I was scared, but I was changing. The change shall lead to the evolution. The evolution of me. No longer shall I be a fake, but I will the truth. Along the way, I'm prepared to face my fears. I'm scared right now. I'm scared of changing. What if it doesn't work? What if I'm still lieing to myself? I don't think I am. At least, that's what the little voice inside has been telling me. Now, all throughout my life, I've learned to never let others make decisions for you. But, this is me. My true inner-self is trapped inside my soul that has been built upon lie after lie. I'm going to kill myself. Yet I won't die. I'm going to become reborn. My rebirth shall lead to my true destiny. Whether it's a lie, or whether I am destined for failure, I know not. I'm not going to lie to myself, and say I do. But, I have a true destiny, and my true self will accomplish just that.
Sticking out his hand, and stroking the wet, red brick beside him, Mazing stops in the middle of the sidewalk. A few number of people run into him, and give him the same glancing looks he received what now seems like so long ago. However, just as he did then, he doesn't care. He looks up to the star dotted sky, his eyes wet, his eyes sparkling. The wind blows, ruffling his hair. Unlike usually, he doesn't seem to notice, or to even care.
Mazing: The Greeks have long since said that the skies are decorated with the stars that form pictures of their heroes, and very much so their enemies at times. The heroes of old, the villains of old. When the Earth was young. I'm young. Long since have I admired those Greek heroes, those mythological legends. Yes, I know I shall never be looked upon as a constellation, dancing through out the night sky. A few months ago, I probably would have told myself I could. I would have lied. But, I'm finally changing. I can feel it. It sends an odd shiver down my spine. Days ago, I would have taken it as the cold tingling of fear. But, now I feel almost excited. I'm still scared. I fear change. Yet I feel as if I'm ready.
Taking a few steps to the side, Mazing leans against the cold brick. The music is now more somber, the sound of the blues seems to be slightly dieing down. People bypass Mazing, not even giving him a second glance as they quickly stalk past him. Whether they are too drunk to notice, or they just have given up on him hogging the sidewalks, one will never know.
Mazing: Everyone is ready for their destiny; Stuart, Michael Kyzer, everyone. I lie in their wake, though, somber as ever. I lie in the path of Justin Tyger as well. With change comes more activity, and more activity leads to my acceptance of being booked on house shows as well. It's viable for the path I now take. I don't want to tell myself I can beat Justin. For all I know, I could be lieing. No matter what anyone says, Justin is my equal. Everyone I face is always my equal from now on. Never will one be put on a pedestal above, or below myself. For I . . . I stand on a pedestal no more. I'm just a common man. A common man with hopes, and dreams of a true life without deceit, and false hope, but with ever so true accomplishments, and destiny. That is what I hope for. Justin hopes for glory, for fame, for being at the pinnacle of the WFWF. He hopes for what everyone else dreams of. Hope . . . chance . . . opportunity . . . Nothing can from them. Whilst passion breeds opportunity, opportunity doesn't always breed success, Justin. And, yet you tend to hate this, "Black Ninja". Hate is just another excuse for fear of the unknown. Then I take it you hate me because you don't know me. I hope you can get to know me, but then where will hope exactly lead us? On March second, hope has lead us somewhere. For you, it has given you an opportunity, an opportunity to beat, "Justa Mazing". Even if you shall do just that which I do not doubt, don't take it as your greatest accomplishment. I'm nothing. However, hope has lead me into the ring with you, into the ring for another step in my search for change, for evolution. I don't think I'm going to have to search anymore. Justin, you're a blessing to me. You're part of the process. You're going to help me. You're going to help me become the man I should have always been. You're going to help me pay my dues once more. I think the search is over. I think now . . . I think the evolution has just begun.
His voice as somber as ever, Mazing backs away from the wall, and begins to walk down the street, engulfed in the mass of people. Just as the pitch, just as the vibe of the blues picks up, he drifts away into the street where it is far more crowded. His head is visible for a minute as the moon shines down upon it. However, soon enough, the sight of Justa Mazing is gone, and the sound of the blues continues.
Along the sidewalks both to the right, and left, a bountiful array of clubs are found, their large windows dark as people rush inside each of the many the street holds. Many of the doors leading inside of the clubs remain open allowing the vibrant sound of the musical category known as, "blues" to drift out on to the street, and spread from ear to ear that walk it, from one end to the other, each end being blocked at a traffic light by two, or three policemen.
The luminous light from the moon is not the only light that dances through this crowd on this rather dark, and cloudy night, however. The buildings along the street hold many signs, many of them illuminated by bright lights. Those bright lights spread throughout the crowd, causing those who walk just a few feet away from them to slightly squint considering the light radiates so violently off of them from a close range. From large, hanging ads advertising Coca Cola to banners decorated with a wide array of colors showcasing the logos of various clubs this rambunctious street houses, each is visible due to the brilliant light that surround them from lamp post to the natural lights of the sky above.
One sign in particular is hung up more than once along this street. With a forget-me-not blue background, an explosion of bright colors, and dark red logo at the center proclaiming the words, "Beale Street", it can not go unnoticed.
With the sounds of the blues still echoing from hither, and thither, it appears the night is still young for those looking for a wild, and fun night. Whether it be doing away with their troubles through dancing, drinking, listening to the wonderful music, or simply just walking through the hyperactive surroundings, it appears a wide array of people have come here to do just that.
Although, for some reason, it doesn't appear all have that good of a time here on, "Beale Street" . . . at least one man in particular. With his hands in his pockets of his faded, and destroyed jeans, he walks rather slowly, pushing his way through men, and women, letting his head slightly droop as he walks. The light dances over his face, causing his strong jawline to cast a shadow over it, but the shadow is quickly gone due to the fact the sun is not out. His tight, black, t-shirt would go unnoticed in the night without the wide supply of lights surrounding him. He ignores the sound of music around him as the wind blows rather fast, causing his long, brown hair to be sent frolicking with it, dancing throughout the dark night. Taking both hands out of his pockets, he brushes his hair from his eyes with his left hand as the gold, and silver bracelet that rests upon his left wrist slightly jingles as he does so. After doing this, he throws his head back, his hair going with it.
Walking still throughout the mass of people at hand, the individual passes a street vendor outside a rather loud club. The man simply ignores his calls as he continues walking at the same, slow pace, paying no attention to those around him. Suddenly, he steps off of the cobble-stoned street, and over on to the sidewalk where things are less crowded. In doing so, he leans his back up against a dark, red, brick wall. An open door to a dark club is just a few feet to his right, and the vibrant sign for that very same club is placed over his head. The light casting down upon his body, and face, his facial features, and body shape come into view for the very first time tonight. Oddly enough, it's former WFWF World Champion, Justa Mazing. Mazing refuses to budge as people slide past him, occasionally brushing his body, and casting him rude glances due to the fact he is too stubborn to move.
Mazing: Beale Street . . . Memphis, Tennessee . . . A perfect for one looking to find a blues hot spot, or just for a nice night out on the town. I can't honestly favor blues even though I have been feeling rather, well, "blue" lately. I don't like to party either. For one, there's just too much problems that go into the whole process. I don't need anymore problems. I don't drink either. Although, I do often, "reminisce".
The cold air presses against the lips of Mazing as he sticks his tongue out, licking them due to dryness. Beale Street is still as crowded as ever, if not even more than it once was. By now, the music is louder, and the people are wilder than ever.
Mazing: It's funny the shred of happiness my past is able to bring me even though if it does tend to linger on my mind for too long, I become upset. I tend to become upset because no longer do I focus on the finer moments of my career, but the troubled times in which I faltered. I continue to falter. I continue to fail. I'm, "Justa Notha Failure". Just like so many others, I'm living a lie. I'm not, "Justa Mazing". I'm just me. However, I continue to search for a method in which will allow me to evolve to become the man I've always said I am, but have never been. I wish for my past endeavors that were given to me on a luxurious silver platter to become basted with the blood that I shall lose whilst I accomplish them again a new man. It's all apart of change. For one to change, for one to evolve, I've learned it takes much more than, "reminiscing". One must . . . "revisit".
Rubbing his back against the dry yet rather chilly brick in which he rests on, Mazing scratches his left cheek as he does so. The music, the blues, the surrounding sounds continue to exuberate the night at hand.
Mazing: I had barely been in the WFWF a little over year, and my unworthy soul was already WFWF World Champion. I might have beaten ZMaster, but it was a stroke of luck. My whole career has rested upon the shoulder's of, "Lady Luck". I envy those with true talent. In actuality, I have none. I just told myself in the beginning I had what it takes to make it to the top of the WFWF. Confucious makes the claim that if you respect yourself, others will respect you. I believed my own lies, and others began to, too. I road my lie all the way to the top. I thought I was unbreakable. It was as if the more I lied, the more I told myself the facts I knew were false all along, it was like an invisible shield was built around me. It protected me. But, being the lier I am, I told myself that my "true" talent was keeping me from falling off the pedestal I so unrightfully now stood upon. I refused to budge though. I refused to budge until my pedestal of the false truth I built beneath me began to crumble at my feet.
The light above Mazing begins to flicker though it does not go out. Mazing continues to attract attention from club-goers, almost all negative. He stands in their path, their trail to their next party, their next drink, their next indulgence in the subtle sounds of music, of blues.
Mazing: Whilst everyone's goal in the WFWF is to be WFWF World Champion, everyone's dream is to main event SuperBrawl. I was no different. And, being the guy I am, I lied to myself. I told myself I had what it takes to get to that level. I told myself that I was going to main event SuperBrawl. I kept lieing, and lieing repeatedly, the false truth echoing in my head over, and over. And, when I became the WFWF World Champion out of sheer chance, my lies grew. My lies spread. My lies were going to ring true once again. One part of me was ecstatic, the other was mournful for the fact that I continued to lie, I continue to get to where so many hoped to be just by sheer pity, sheer opportunity. The latter prevailed. As soon as the dream had been realized, the nightmare began. My pedestal paltered. My lies destroyed me just as they are now. I left. I was done. I forfeited the WFWF World Championship. I forfeited my spot in the main event at SuperBrawl III . . . my dream . . . my lie.
An airplane soaring through the sky overhead, Mazing cracks his neck, rubbing his right eye. Blinking rather hyper actively, Mazing takes a quick glance at those around him; the musicians, the partiers, the young, the old. As they pass, Mazing's lowers his head, ignoring their comments. He doesn't want to move. He doesn't have the energy to move. He doesn't have the energy to go on.
Mazing: But, I return. I return to the sight of my dream that was never fully realized, my lie that never came to fruition. Memphis, Tennessee, the home of SuperBrawl III. The place I should have been, the place I never was. The place where my lies would fully cultivate at last. Although, I put an end to that. I was done. I left. I put in an end to my lies. I put an end to my career. However, just like my career, that was one big lie. Everyone comes back. I tried to tell myself, I'm not everyone. I tried to tell myself I was Justa Mazing. The lies began again. I'm not Justa Mazing. I was on the road back to the lies, the deceit. I was ready to return to the WFWF.
Suddenly, Mazing moves away from the side of the wall, and begins to walk along the sidewalk, passing other people as he goes. Almost every door to every club is open, and the music continues to flow through the street.
Mazing: And, so the cycle began again; the lieing, the false truth, I had truly returned. "Justa Mazing" was back. Instantly, I turned to the past. I was afraid of going into the future, afraid of starting a new. I told myself that wasn't the case. But, I lied. I turned to Stuart. I wanted to relive the memories of the past. I told myself all I wanted was settle something that was never truly settled. I lied. I was scared. I didn't want to change. I was afraid of going forward. I wanted to rely on my past to carry. And, so it has. That's the truth. After all, in due time, I was back to main eventing Code Red, and Hybrid, what else could I ask for? Maybe the truth. Because, I began to get the feeling, the feeling that pedestal below was crumbling. I didn't know what to do. Heading into a big match at Fully Charged with Stuart, I was scared. My career could be crumbling right before me. But, I lied to myself again. I comforted myself with the false hope I had relied on since day one. I told myself that I was just nervous. I mean, after all, it was my first pay-per-view match since returning. Though, I don't get nervous, and that's not a lie. It was happening all over again; I was about to crash, and burn. I was heading down hill fast. I was going to be gone soon enough. Yet I did something I've never done before; I began to tell the truth. I began to comfort myself not with lies, and deceit, but with truthful lullabies of the future, the past, and the present. The truth dragged me down even faster. Although, I wasn't going to fall. I wasn't going to crumble. I had just lost what I had unrightfully gained all because I began to present myself not in false hope, but in the light of the truth. I showed myself I really was. I'm not Justa Mazing. It's just a gimmick. But, I'm still discovering who I am. I'm still discovering my true self. By sacrificing myself, by leaping from atop the pedestal I had built beneath, I began to change. I was scared, but I was changing. The change shall lead to the evolution. The evolution of me. No longer shall I be a fake, but I will the truth. Along the way, I'm prepared to face my fears. I'm scared right now. I'm scared of changing. What if it doesn't work? What if I'm still lieing to myself? I don't think I am. At least, that's what the little voice inside has been telling me. Now, all throughout my life, I've learned to never let others make decisions for you. But, this is me. My true inner-self is trapped inside my soul that has been built upon lie after lie. I'm going to kill myself. Yet I won't die. I'm going to become reborn. My rebirth shall lead to my true destiny. Whether it's a lie, or whether I am destined for failure, I know not. I'm not going to lie to myself, and say I do. But, I have a true destiny, and my true self will accomplish just that.
Sticking out his hand, and stroking the wet, red brick beside him, Mazing stops in the middle of the sidewalk. A few number of people run into him, and give him the same glancing looks he received what now seems like so long ago. However, just as he did then, he doesn't care. He looks up to the star dotted sky, his eyes wet, his eyes sparkling. The wind blows, ruffling his hair. Unlike usually, he doesn't seem to notice, or to even care.
Mazing: The Greeks have long since said that the skies are decorated with the stars that form pictures of their heroes, and very much so their enemies at times. The heroes of old, the villains of old. When the Earth was young. I'm young. Long since have I admired those Greek heroes, those mythological legends. Yes, I know I shall never be looked upon as a constellation, dancing through out the night sky. A few months ago, I probably would have told myself I could. I would have lied. But, I'm finally changing. I can feel it. It sends an odd shiver down my spine. Days ago, I would have taken it as the cold tingling of fear. But, now I feel almost excited. I'm still scared. I fear change. Yet I feel as if I'm ready.
Taking a few steps to the side, Mazing leans against the cold brick. The music is now more somber, the sound of the blues seems to be slightly dieing down. People bypass Mazing, not even giving him a second glance as they quickly stalk past him. Whether they are too drunk to notice, or they just have given up on him hogging the sidewalks, one will never know.
Mazing: Everyone is ready for their destiny; Stuart, Michael Kyzer, everyone. I lie in their wake, though, somber as ever. I lie in the path of Justin Tyger as well. With change comes more activity, and more activity leads to my acceptance of being booked on house shows as well. It's viable for the path I now take. I don't want to tell myself I can beat Justin. For all I know, I could be lieing. No matter what anyone says, Justin is my equal. Everyone I face is always my equal from now on. Never will one be put on a pedestal above, or below myself. For I . . . I stand on a pedestal no more. I'm just a common man. A common man with hopes, and dreams of a true life without deceit, and false hope, but with ever so true accomplishments, and destiny. That is what I hope for. Justin hopes for glory, for fame, for being at the pinnacle of the WFWF. He hopes for what everyone else dreams of. Hope . . . chance . . . opportunity . . . Nothing can from them. Whilst passion breeds opportunity, opportunity doesn't always breed success, Justin. And, yet you tend to hate this, "Black Ninja". Hate is just another excuse for fear of the unknown. Then I take it you hate me because you don't know me. I hope you can get to know me, but then where will hope exactly lead us? On March second, hope has lead us somewhere. For you, it has given you an opportunity, an opportunity to beat, "Justa Mazing". Even if you shall do just that which I do not doubt, don't take it as your greatest accomplishment. I'm nothing. However, hope has lead me into the ring with you, into the ring for another step in my search for change, for evolution. I don't think I'm going to have to search anymore. Justin, you're a blessing to me. You're part of the process. You're going to help me. You're going to help me become the man I should have always been. You're going to help me pay my dues once more. I think the search is over. I think now . . . I think the evolution has just begun.
His voice as somber as ever, Mazing backs away from the wall, and begins to walk down the street, engulfed in the mass of people. Just as the pitch, just as the vibe of the blues picks up, he drifts away into the street where it is far more crowded. His head is visible for a minute as the moon shines down upon it. However, soon enough, the sight of Justa Mazing is gone, and the sound of the blues continues.