Post by TZ on Feb 13, 2006 22:04:42 GMT -5
Above, the clouds billow hither, and thither across the pale, forget-me-not blue sky. The sun shines brightly down onto the streets below.
The streets. The streets that are filled with resolute remains of cardboard boxes from the dark, grungy alley ways in between the run down apartment buildings.
Littered with cans, old cigarettes, and broken beer bottles, the sidewalks are home at the moment to a wide variety of people in certain groups, huddled against the crumbling brick of the apartment walls. The occasional single male, or female that chooses to walk alone in these parts has to struggle just to get through the cramped, crowded area along which they walk. Sounds of harassment, and hate fill the atmosphere that is being cooled by the rather chiller air the month of February brings.
Besides the previously mentioned trash, the streets are vacant, leaving them open for play. Children of the surrounding area, both boy, and girl, run around in the middle of the street, playing, and tag, and what not. Some carry basketballs although most appear to be flat. Their parents sit on the concrete steps of their various apartment complex watching their young children enjoy life at hand. The occasional older sibling joins them, but mostly those over the age of fourteen is seen in the groups that choose to be alone, and grouped together away from anyone else, or any other thing except their four, or five selective friends.
As vibrant laughs, and shouts from the beautiful children fill the air, and violent shouts can be heard being called over from one group of young men to another, another man walks alone among st the crowd. For he, he is easy to spot. He does not sport the usual attire one would see in these parts. He wears not a Hood, button down shirt, or just a plain white t-shirt, no. Instead, his long sleeve t-shirt, while it is white, is rather tight, not baggy, and sports the logo of the band, "Black Label Society". His hair is longer than the average male seen around here, very much longer. It's brown waves flow in the wind as it blows against the brilliant blue sky. Tighter than they are baggy, his faded, ripped jeans attract several sneers, and jeers as he walks past the crowds around him yet he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps his light blue eyes focused in front of him, not looking at anyone, or anything. Several of the children stop to stare, some even point. The adults that sit upon the steps slightly laugh as he walks past them, but he hears not what they say, or the noises they make. He just walks. And, he keeps walking until he reaches his apparent destination point. Here, the area is less crowded. While the alley ways are adorned with several gangs, and the streets are trashed, there are no children, or adults.
The man stops in front of an apartment complex so run down it makes the others look like palaces. The concrete steps are cracked, and smashed leaving pieces of gray rock all around the already broken pavement, and sidewalk. Where there were once windows there is instead wood boarding them up. The small place for greenery outside to the right, and left of the steps is no longer green. Instead, it is dark, brown soul, and trash has been strewn all over the brown, light dirt. Graffiti covers the faded, and broken red brick.
Suddenly, the man squats down taking a seat on the broken steps. Several pieces of concrete crumble underneath his rather small, but muscular frame.
Over head, the sun continues to shine giving small amounts of heat, and radiation off. However, it seems useless, it's still cold. Yet, as the sun's rays move over the surface below, they catch the man's face, and he squints. The light forces away the shadow that had been hovering over him, and for the first time, his face is finally clearly visible. Believe it, or not, it is apparent at once who it is. However, here? At a place like this? But, there is no denying this man is Justa Mazing.
Mazing: It's funny how far I've come. It's funny how many times my life has seen the ups, and how many times my life as seen the downs. However, I'm still hanging in there. I always hang in there. Life is precious. With every becking moment, a little bit of my life is taken away from me. The same goes for everyone. It doesn't matter who you are. We all die. I'm Justa Mazing. But, soon enough, my day will come. Yeah, I'll be, "Justa Notha Dead Guy", too. We all will. That doesn't mean we have to give up though. God grants us life for a reason. In our lives, we all have a destiny. Some sad souls never see the day to, or never get to accomplish their's. Fortunately, I'm not one of them. I've accomplished, I've achieved my destiny. Big deal, huh? I was WFWF World Champion. But, what legacy did I really leave by winning that title? Nothing. Sure, they put my name in the, "record books", but who actually reads to find out anyways? The fact of the matter is, when you hold a title for a month, then vacate it without ever defending it so you can leave the company you claim to admire ever so much behind you, thinking it is never going to be apart of your life again, no one remembers you. Well, they remember you for being a jackass, but that's about it. I'm, "Justa Notha Jack Ass". I'm not Justa Mazing. What have I ever done that's been, "Justa Mazing"? I'm, "Justa Notha Gimmick". I'm, "Justa Notha Guy". I had a dream, but my dream turned into a nightmare. I'm finally just waking up, but I can't help, but get the feeling it's coming right back to me.
Placing his hands in his face, Mazing takes a rather deep breath. As he exhales, he looks up to wards the pale sky above. In the distance, relative shouts can be heard. However, Mazing decides to ignore him, and remains seated where he has been this whole time. His expression is glum . . . very glum.
Mazing: I try to be different, but I just can't change. I've always been me. I might throw in a pinch of spice, and a bit of everything once in a while, but I seem so . . . bland. I've come to the realization that I'm not the man I thought I was. In fact, I've never been that man. Life is oddly peculiar. I'm handed things on a silver platter, but there comes the time when I decide I just don't want it anymore. That times now. I don't know what it is, it's like I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of being me. I'm sick of being Justa Mazing. No one can heal me. No one . . . No one, but myself. Although, I don't know how. I've got to change. But, I'm scared. I've stuck with the same formula for so long, how can a guy like me change just now? They say to stick with what brought you to the dance, but what do you do when the dance is about to end? You've got to change. The question is, how can you change? How can I change? The change would be for the better, but I also get the feeling that the change I want to enforce would be for the worst. I've told myself for so long I'm something that I'm not that when I now realize that I was always wrong it's made me a mental wreck. I'm scared. It's time to change.
In the sky above, a bird is seen flying across the shining glow, and rays of the sun. It lands on top of an apartment complex opposite of Mazing. It too has been closed down, its windows boarded up in the same fashion, it's brown feathers visible in the sunlight. However, it hasn't been as defecated as much as the its brother across the street.
Mazing: Evolution is just a simple, natural process that everything on Earth goes through at some point. Earth has evolved. Animals evolve. As humans, we evolve as people. It's time for me to evolve. My situation requires something much more drastic than chance. It's time I evolve. It's time I become a new person. For too long have I represented something I am not. Now? I want to represent who I really am. I don't want to be called, "Justa Mazing". I want to finally be, "Justa Mazing". For some reason, something inside me tells me I can do just that. But, I can't stop thinking that I'm always going to fail in the back of my mind. What if this is who I am destined to be for the rest of my life? Just me. Nothing else. What if I can't change? What if I can't evolve into a new person? Then maybe I'm doomed. Maybe I'm lost. Maybe I'm hopeless. Although, without hope, I'd be dead by now. Maybe, just maybe, at my own hands. I don't think things would ever get that drastic. By God, I hope I finally do change that those thoughts never even creep into my mind. But, there is so many, "what ifs?". There are so many possibilities it is scary. It's scary to think just what might happen if we do this, or that. In the end, it's even scary to think what might even happen if I do change. Will it work? Or, will I just be the same guy I've been for the past few weeks? I don't want to be that guy. I don't think God ever intended me to be that guy. Although, if there was a God, I'd probably never even have put myself in this position, a position that has caused me to question so many things; my life, my career, my faith, and myself. Everything. I've analyzed, and evaluated everything ten times over the last few weeks. I've thought of giving it all up, and just starting over again. Maybe that's where the true first stage of my evolution lies. I myself thought I was crazy. But, the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. If I truly am going to evolve into the man I know I should have always been, then why not go back to where it all began?
As the bird across the street a top the opposite building twitched his head, and began to look over the street in the other direction, Mazing made a slight grunt as he made the effort to push him self back onto his feet. Once there, climbed down the few steps left so he could be back on level ground, back on the cracked sidewalk. When he reached his point of destination, he wiped off the back of his jeans, turned around, and looked at the apartment complex before him.
Mazing: It's been a little over two years since I had my debut match in the WFWF during December of 2003. And, this . . . this is where it all began. This is where I was. I was here, struggling. I lived here. It wasn't much, but I didn't have much. I mean, the working independents across the United States can only pay so much. Plus, the money for my overseas tours could only buy me so much. But, this was all I had. I called this place home. The apartment? It wasn't very big. It was only one room. In fact, this place doesn't look much better than it did when it was still open. Most of the windows had been busted anyways. But, the thing is, after living an upper-middle class life up until the age of eighteen, this is where I landed. It was definitely a change. And, I was scared. I'm afraid of change. Although, I was eighteen. Sure, my wrestling career had begun at the young age of sixteen, but I was an adult. It was time for me to move out on my own. And, I was going to make sure I did things on my own. This was my place. I was willing to live here to ensure that I would accomplish my destiny in life. It's amazing the consequences I paid to become the guy I am today. Though, I didn't have to live here long. I got lucky. I always get lucky. I got the call from the WFWF . . . the big leagues. It was my chance. But, I was afraid. It was time to change. Never the less, I jumped at the opportunity, and over two years later, look where it has landed me. I'm back in the same spot. In a way, I wish I could be the same person; naive, but determined. Now? I'm not naive, I can tell you that. And, I'm no longer determined. How can I be determined when I no longer even believe in myself? Although, I want that to change. That's why I'm here right? But, I'm scared. I'm afraid of change. I always have been.
Pacing back, and forth a few feet across the sidewalk, Mazing tilts his head back to wards the sky. Coincidentally, the bird across the street, still in the same spot, does the same thing. However, when it hears a particularly loud shout from down the street, it spreads its wings only to fly off.
Mazing: Experiencing like this are supposed to give people inspiration. Experiences like this are supposed to show people how far they've come. Well, how can they give you inspiration when you get the feeling you haven't ever done anything? Although, I want to have that feeling. I want to be the guy that that little voice inside my head was always telling me I was when I never even really was. I want to step it up. I want to be that person. I want to finally be, "Justa Mazing". I'm willing to do anything to do just that. I want to push myself again, but to push myself I've got to have a goal. My goal? To finally be somebody. My actions need to speak louder than my words ever have. What comes out of my mouth needs to ring true like it never has. My whole career has flashed before these past few days; my debut, my first WFWF Television Championship, my feud with ZMaster, winning the TV title again, winning the WFWF World Championship, leaving, coming back, everything. Even Stuart. Stuart's special. I've found my hate for Stuart is more envy than anything. Stuart's special. He's a guy that's been able to give me something to fight for when I thought I was done. He's given me opportunity. Although, I haven't really seized that opportunity that well like I did the last time it was handed to me two years ago. He's given me the opportunity to have the spotlight one more time. I didn't take it. I didn't want. He's given our feud the chance to be in the main event slot time after time again. I don't want to work that hard. I'm not driven enough to work that hard. I know a young guy of age about seventeen that looks just like me that might, but I won't. Why should I? I won't get in anything in return. I'll just be the guy I've been the last few months. I'm drowning in my own sorrow. I'm losing my will to continue. Yet I keep going, I keep fighting. Maybe that's the hope I need. After all, if I continue to keep fighting for something I do want, maybe I actually do want it? Maybe, deep down inside of my soul, I want that spotlight. Maybe I want that opportunity. Although, I just need to get it. I need to evolve.
Rubbing his hands through his flowing brown hair, Mazing takes a seat on the second step on the slab of the concrete steps he previously sat on.
Mazing: It's just that evolution takes time, possibly too much time. For me to be the man I want to be, things need to change quick, very quick. Then again, I fear change. Maybe I'm the one preventing the change from taking place. Maybe I'm the one preventing my own progress. In fact, I am. The only logical way to keep yourself from moving on is to slow down the course of action that would allow you to do just that. Then why do I want to change? It's like I'm two different people. Well, I am; the guy I always thought I was, and the guy I really am. Yet, I didn't expect anything like this. A battle, a battle between my inner-personalities. Both trying to overcome the other, both trying to prove which is the most adept, the most dominate. Maybe that's the right to go. Maybe I should embrace the war from within. I need a good moment to embrace myself. I haven't had one in so long. Why should I if I've been feeling the way I'm feeling? It doesn't make sense. None of this does. I don't make sense. I'm mad. I've finally cracked. But, my evolution shall cure my insanity. I'll cure my own insanity. Only I can cure myself. There is no prescription for the illness that has been laid upon. No drugs can help me . . . no . . . drugs . . .
Seemingly jumping to his feet, Mazing begins to pace up, and down the stares. As he does so, he bites his lip to the point it begins to turn a rather ugly color of white. After his frantic sabbatical, Mazing comes to a stand still on the fourth step.
Mazing: At the moment, my life, my career is just one big ball of problems wrapped into one. My problems that surround my personal life have to do with my wrestling career, and the problems that overshadow my wrestling career have to do with my personal life too. I can't win for losing. I don't feel like winning. Although, my job is to win. But, I don't want to. I don't feel like winning yet I continue to win. Does that tell me that, deep down, I really want to win? I've asked myself so many questions I don't even know the right answers even more. The fact of the matter is, I need no more problems, but I keep receiving them one after the other. If it wasn't for my upcoming match with Stuart at Fully Charged, I'd go so far to say I might be on some level of sanity, but no. I've got a match with Stuart at Fully Charged. The fact is, I have to face the facts. I have to face the facts to change. Change scares me. The facts scare me. Life after Fully Charged scares me. Where do I go from there? I've got a slim idea, but my ideas are just figments of my own ludicrous imagination at this point. I can't think straight. Not only am I scared of changing, I'm scared of thinking. I'm scared of progressing. I'm scared of success. But, I demand success. So does Michael Kyzer. Kyzer's kind of like me right now; he doesn't know what he's doing in life either. He's just as whacked as me if not more. If it wasn't for my undying will to stay clean, I might just borrow his needle. The talk of his ecstatic euphoria excites interests me. I need some happiness, and well being in my life at this point in time. I certainly lack it. But, I don't think I'm going to get it anytime soon. After all, after I get done doing whatever I'm going to wind up doing with Stuart at Fully Charged, I've got Kyzer on my plate. Kyzer, yes. For the second time in my career, I step into the ring with Michael Kyzer. Though, this time it's different. The last time I faced Michael Kyzer, I wanted to win. The ever thoughtful Stuart might have prevented that, but this time it's different. It's just Kyzer, and I. Yet, I don't care if I win. Although, I want to win, it's important I do so in my search for change. But, I'm scared of accomplishing anything right now. Kyzer's different. Anything different is strange. Strange is due to change. Change scares me. Michael Kyzer is built upon a foundation that is made up of everything my twisted brain just so happens to fear right now. My twisted mind might contort my thoughts, but I know one thing. I know what my fears are right now. I fear more than I have ever feared. Although, I have never known who I have ever really been so maybe I don't. Never the less, I'm fearful right now. My fear is my worst enemy. Kyzer dictates my fears. Kyzer is my fears. I actually fear Michael Kyzer. If Mazing heard me say that, I don't know what he'd think. What am I telling myself though? Aren't I, "Justa Mazing"? I don't feel as if I am.
The frantic pacing stops as Mazing drops himself down back on the steps, sitting down once more. Although, he slowly begins to rock back in forth, his mouth cupped in his hands. Slowly, he begins to stop, and places hand at his side.
Mazing: But, I want to feel that way. That's why I want to change. That's why I want to evolve. I want to be the guy I never was, the guy I always truly thought I was. Michael Kyzer faced that lier. Michael Kyzer faced a fake the first time round. He faced me, but in fact, he didn't face me in a way. I wasn't myself. For the past two years, I haven't been myself. I've been living a lie. I'm not the guy I've said I am, the guy I've been believing I am. Although, this time round, Kyzer isn't really facing my true self this time either. I'm twisted. I don't know who I am anymore. But, that's my goal isn't it? To become somebody finally, to finally found out who I really am. I shudder to think that, while he is high literally 24/7, Michael Kyzer still maintains a realm of self-awareness. While I? I'm not high. I'm just going mad. I thought I went mad this summer when I left the WFWF to fend for its own without a champion. Although, that was nothing compared to this. This doesn't even have anything to do with stress. I just don't know who the crap I am anymore. I never have. I want to find out though. Do you want to help Kyzer? Maybe if you happen to drop me on my head a couple of times the F*cking Addiction, maybe you'll knock me to my senses. Maybe one more defeat will do just that. But, just like your ever progressing drug addiction, I don't think anything can help me right now, but myself. Just me. You don't have any role to play here, Kyzer. You're just part of the evolution. You're just part of the change. I'm afraid of change. Maybe I'm afraid of you. To get where I think I need to be, I need to conquer that fear. Maybe I'll conquer you, Kyzer. Then again, I'm scared. You might already have the battle won. Though, the evolution is a must. The change is coming whether I fear it, or not.
Slowly, but surely, Mazing gets to his feet, and begins to walk off along the sidewalk. Passing the crowded streets, he progresses his way through the groups of troubled young adults as an oddly familiar bird flies overhead. However, since this bird has one red feather over the mass of brown feathers that cover it, it can not be the same one that sat opposite Mazing earlier . . . unless it changed.
The streets. The streets that are filled with resolute remains of cardboard boxes from the dark, grungy alley ways in between the run down apartment buildings.
Littered with cans, old cigarettes, and broken beer bottles, the sidewalks are home at the moment to a wide variety of people in certain groups, huddled against the crumbling brick of the apartment walls. The occasional single male, or female that chooses to walk alone in these parts has to struggle just to get through the cramped, crowded area along which they walk. Sounds of harassment, and hate fill the atmosphere that is being cooled by the rather chiller air the month of February brings.
Besides the previously mentioned trash, the streets are vacant, leaving them open for play. Children of the surrounding area, both boy, and girl, run around in the middle of the street, playing, and tag, and what not. Some carry basketballs although most appear to be flat. Their parents sit on the concrete steps of their various apartment complex watching their young children enjoy life at hand. The occasional older sibling joins them, but mostly those over the age of fourteen is seen in the groups that choose to be alone, and grouped together away from anyone else, or any other thing except their four, or five selective friends.
As vibrant laughs, and shouts from the beautiful children fill the air, and violent shouts can be heard being called over from one group of young men to another, another man walks alone among st the crowd. For he, he is easy to spot. He does not sport the usual attire one would see in these parts. He wears not a Hood, button down shirt, or just a plain white t-shirt, no. Instead, his long sleeve t-shirt, while it is white, is rather tight, not baggy, and sports the logo of the band, "Black Label Society". His hair is longer than the average male seen around here, very much longer. It's brown waves flow in the wind as it blows against the brilliant blue sky. Tighter than they are baggy, his faded, ripped jeans attract several sneers, and jeers as he walks past the crowds around him yet he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps his light blue eyes focused in front of him, not looking at anyone, or anything. Several of the children stop to stare, some even point. The adults that sit upon the steps slightly laugh as he walks past them, but he hears not what they say, or the noises they make. He just walks. And, he keeps walking until he reaches his apparent destination point. Here, the area is less crowded. While the alley ways are adorned with several gangs, and the streets are trashed, there are no children, or adults.
The man stops in front of an apartment complex so run down it makes the others look like palaces. The concrete steps are cracked, and smashed leaving pieces of gray rock all around the already broken pavement, and sidewalk. Where there were once windows there is instead wood boarding them up. The small place for greenery outside to the right, and left of the steps is no longer green. Instead, it is dark, brown soul, and trash has been strewn all over the brown, light dirt. Graffiti covers the faded, and broken red brick.
Suddenly, the man squats down taking a seat on the broken steps. Several pieces of concrete crumble underneath his rather small, but muscular frame.
Over head, the sun continues to shine giving small amounts of heat, and radiation off. However, it seems useless, it's still cold. Yet, as the sun's rays move over the surface below, they catch the man's face, and he squints. The light forces away the shadow that had been hovering over him, and for the first time, his face is finally clearly visible. Believe it, or not, it is apparent at once who it is. However, here? At a place like this? But, there is no denying this man is Justa Mazing.
Mazing: It's funny how far I've come. It's funny how many times my life has seen the ups, and how many times my life as seen the downs. However, I'm still hanging in there. I always hang in there. Life is precious. With every becking moment, a little bit of my life is taken away from me. The same goes for everyone. It doesn't matter who you are. We all die. I'm Justa Mazing. But, soon enough, my day will come. Yeah, I'll be, "Justa Notha Dead Guy", too. We all will. That doesn't mean we have to give up though. God grants us life for a reason. In our lives, we all have a destiny. Some sad souls never see the day to, or never get to accomplish their's. Fortunately, I'm not one of them. I've accomplished, I've achieved my destiny. Big deal, huh? I was WFWF World Champion. But, what legacy did I really leave by winning that title? Nothing. Sure, they put my name in the, "record books", but who actually reads to find out anyways? The fact of the matter is, when you hold a title for a month, then vacate it without ever defending it so you can leave the company you claim to admire ever so much behind you, thinking it is never going to be apart of your life again, no one remembers you. Well, they remember you for being a jackass, but that's about it. I'm, "Justa Notha Jack Ass". I'm not Justa Mazing. What have I ever done that's been, "Justa Mazing"? I'm, "Justa Notha Gimmick". I'm, "Justa Notha Guy". I had a dream, but my dream turned into a nightmare. I'm finally just waking up, but I can't help, but get the feeling it's coming right back to me.
Placing his hands in his face, Mazing takes a rather deep breath. As he exhales, he looks up to wards the pale sky above. In the distance, relative shouts can be heard. However, Mazing decides to ignore him, and remains seated where he has been this whole time. His expression is glum . . . very glum.
Mazing: I try to be different, but I just can't change. I've always been me. I might throw in a pinch of spice, and a bit of everything once in a while, but I seem so . . . bland. I've come to the realization that I'm not the man I thought I was. In fact, I've never been that man. Life is oddly peculiar. I'm handed things on a silver platter, but there comes the time when I decide I just don't want it anymore. That times now. I don't know what it is, it's like I'm sick of myself. I'm sick of being me. I'm sick of being Justa Mazing. No one can heal me. No one . . . No one, but myself. Although, I don't know how. I've got to change. But, I'm scared. I've stuck with the same formula for so long, how can a guy like me change just now? They say to stick with what brought you to the dance, but what do you do when the dance is about to end? You've got to change. The question is, how can you change? How can I change? The change would be for the better, but I also get the feeling that the change I want to enforce would be for the worst. I've told myself for so long I'm something that I'm not that when I now realize that I was always wrong it's made me a mental wreck. I'm scared. It's time to change.
In the sky above, a bird is seen flying across the shining glow, and rays of the sun. It lands on top of an apartment complex opposite of Mazing. It too has been closed down, its windows boarded up in the same fashion, it's brown feathers visible in the sunlight. However, it hasn't been as defecated as much as the its brother across the street.
Mazing: Evolution is just a simple, natural process that everything on Earth goes through at some point. Earth has evolved. Animals evolve. As humans, we evolve as people. It's time for me to evolve. My situation requires something much more drastic than chance. It's time I evolve. It's time I become a new person. For too long have I represented something I am not. Now? I want to represent who I really am. I don't want to be called, "Justa Mazing". I want to finally be, "Justa Mazing". For some reason, something inside me tells me I can do just that. But, I can't stop thinking that I'm always going to fail in the back of my mind. What if this is who I am destined to be for the rest of my life? Just me. Nothing else. What if I can't change? What if I can't evolve into a new person? Then maybe I'm doomed. Maybe I'm lost. Maybe I'm hopeless. Although, without hope, I'd be dead by now. Maybe, just maybe, at my own hands. I don't think things would ever get that drastic. By God, I hope I finally do change that those thoughts never even creep into my mind. But, there is so many, "what ifs?". There are so many possibilities it is scary. It's scary to think just what might happen if we do this, or that. In the end, it's even scary to think what might even happen if I do change. Will it work? Or, will I just be the same guy I've been for the past few weeks? I don't want to be that guy. I don't think God ever intended me to be that guy. Although, if there was a God, I'd probably never even have put myself in this position, a position that has caused me to question so many things; my life, my career, my faith, and myself. Everything. I've analyzed, and evaluated everything ten times over the last few weeks. I've thought of giving it all up, and just starting over again. Maybe that's where the true first stage of my evolution lies. I myself thought I was crazy. But, the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. If I truly am going to evolve into the man I know I should have always been, then why not go back to where it all began?
As the bird across the street a top the opposite building twitched his head, and began to look over the street in the other direction, Mazing made a slight grunt as he made the effort to push him self back onto his feet. Once there, climbed down the few steps left so he could be back on level ground, back on the cracked sidewalk. When he reached his point of destination, he wiped off the back of his jeans, turned around, and looked at the apartment complex before him.
Mazing: It's been a little over two years since I had my debut match in the WFWF during December of 2003. And, this . . . this is where it all began. This is where I was. I was here, struggling. I lived here. It wasn't much, but I didn't have much. I mean, the working independents across the United States can only pay so much. Plus, the money for my overseas tours could only buy me so much. But, this was all I had. I called this place home. The apartment? It wasn't very big. It was only one room. In fact, this place doesn't look much better than it did when it was still open. Most of the windows had been busted anyways. But, the thing is, after living an upper-middle class life up until the age of eighteen, this is where I landed. It was definitely a change. And, I was scared. I'm afraid of change. Although, I was eighteen. Sure, my wrestling career had begun at the young age of sixteen, but I was an adult. It was time for me to move out on my own. And, I was going to make sure I did things on my own. This was my place. I was willing to live here to ensure that I would accomplish my destiny in life. It's amazing the consequences I paid to become the guy I am today. Though, I didn't have to live here long. I got lucky. I always get lucky. I got the call from the WFWF . . . the big leagues. It was my chance. But, I was afraid. It was time to change. Never the less, I jumped at the opportunity, and over two years later, look where it has landed me. I'm back in the same spot. In a way, I wish I could be the same person; naive, but determined. Now? I'm not naive, I can tell you that. And, I'm no longer determined. How can I be determined when I no longer even believe in myself? Although, I want that to change. That's why I'm here right? But, I'm scared. I'm afraid of change. I always have been.
Pacing back, and forth a few feet across the sidewalk, Mazing tilts his head back to wards the sky. Coincidentally, the bird across the street, still in the same spot, does the same thing. However, when it hears a particularly loud shout from down the street, it spreads its wings only to fly off.
Mazing: Experiencing like this are supposed to give people inspiration. Experiences like this are supposed to show people how far they've come. Well, how can they give you inspiration when you get the feeling you haven't ever done anything? Although, I want to have that feeling. I want to be the guy that that little voice inside my head was always telling me I was when I never even really was. I want to step it up. I want to be that person. I want to finally be, "Justa Mazing". I'm willing to do anything to do just that. I want to push myself again, but to push myself I've got to have a goal. My goal? To finally be somebody. My actions need to speak louder than my words ever have. What comes out of my mouth needs to ring true like it never has. My whole career has flashed before these past few days; my debut, my first WFWF Television Championship, my feud with ZMaster, winning the TV title again, winning the WFWF World Championship, leaving, coming back, everything. Even Stuart. Stuart's special. I've found my hate for Stuart is more envy than anything. Stuart's special. He's a guy that's been able to give me something to fight for when I thought I was done. He's given me opportunity. Although, I haven't really seized that opportunity that well like I did the last time it was handed to me two years ago. He's given me the opportunity to have the spotlight one more time. I didn't take it. I didn't want. He's given our feud the chance to be in the main event slot time after time again. I don't want to work that hard. I'm not driven enough to work that hard. I know a young guy of age about seventeen that looks just like me that might, but I won't. Why should I? I won't get in anything in return. I'll just be the guy I've been the last few months. I'm drowning in my own sorrow. I'm losing my will to continue. Yet I keep going, I keep fighting. Maybe that's the hope I need. After all, if I continue to keep fighting for something I do want, maybe I actually do want it? Maybe, deep down inside of my soul, I want that spotlight. Maybe I want that opportunity. Although, I just need to get it. I need to evolve.
Rubbing his hands through his flowing brown hair, Mazing takes a seat on the second step on the slab of the concrete steps he previously sat on.
Mazing: It's just that evolution takes time, possibly too much time. For me to be the man I want to be, things need to change quick, very quick. Then again, I fear change. Maybe I'm the one preventing the change from taking place. Maybe I'm the one preventing my own progress. In fact, I am. The only logical way to keep yourself from moving on is to slow down the course of action that would allow you to do just that. Then why do I want to change? It's like I'm two different people. Well, I am; the guy I always thought I was, and the guy I really am. Yet, I didn't expect anything like this. A battle, a battle between my inner-personalities. Both trying to overcome the other, both trying to prove which is the most adept, the most dominate. Maybe that's the right to go. Maybe I should embrace the war from within. I need a good moment to embrace myself. I haven't had one in so long. Why should I if I've been feeling the way I'm feeling? It doesn't make sense. None of this does. I don't make sense. I'm mad. I've finally cracked. But, my evolution shall cure my insanity. I'll cure my own insanity. Only I can cure myself. There is no prescription for the illness that has been laid upon. No drugs can help me . . . no . . . drugs . . .
Seemingly jumping to his feet, Mazing begins to pace up, and down the stares. As he does so, he bites his lip to the point it begins to turn a rather ugly color of white. After his frantic sabbatical, Mazing comes to a stand still on the fourth step.
Mazing: At the moment, my life, my career is just one big ball of problems wrapped into one. My problems that surround my personal life have to do with my wrestling career, and the problems that overshadow my wrestling career have to do with my personal life too. I can't win for losing. I don't feel like winning. Although, my job is to win. But, I don't want to. I don't feel like winning yet I continue to win. Does that tell me that, deep down, I really want to win? I've asked myself so many questions I don't even know the right answers even more. The fact of the matter is, I need no more problems, but I keep receiving them one after the other. If it wasn't for my upcoming match with Stuart at Fully Charged, I'd go so far to say I might be on some level of sanity, but no. I've got a match with Stuart at Fully Charged. The fact is, I have to face the facts. I have to face the facts to change. Change scares me. The facts scare me. Life after Fully Charged scares me. Where do I go from there? I've got a slim idea, but my ideas are just figments of my own ludicrous imagination at this point. I can't think straight. Not only am I scared of changing, I'm scared of thinking. I'm scared of progressing. I'm scared of success. But, I demand success. So does Michael Kyzer. Kyzer's kind of like me right now; he doesn't know what he's doing in life either. He's just as whacked as me if not more. If it wasn't for my undying will to stay clean, I might just borrow his needle. The talk of his ecstatic euphoria excites interests me. I need some happiness, and well being in my life at this point in time. I certainly lack it. But, I don't think I'm going to get it anytime soon. After all, after I get done doing whatever I'm going to wind up doing with Stuart at Fully Charged, I've got Kyzer on my plate. Kyzer, yes. For the second time in my career, I step into the ring with Michael Kyzer. Though, this time it's different. The last time I faced Michael Kyzer, I wanted to win. The ever thoughtful Stuart might have prevented that, but this time it's different. It's just Kyzer, and I. Yet, I don't care if I win. Although, I want to win, it's important I do so in my search for change. But, I'm scared of accomplishing anything right now. Kyzer's different. Anything different is strange. Strange is due to change. Change scares me. Michael Kyzer is built upon a foundation that is made up of everything my twisted brain just so happens to fear right now. My twisted mind might contort my thoughts, but I know one thing. I know what my fears are right now. I fear more than I have ever feared. Although, I have never known who I have ever really been so maybe I don't. Never the less, I'm fearful right now. My fear is my worst enemy. Kyzer dictates my fears. Kyzer is my fears. I actually fear Michael Kyzer. If Mazing heard me say that, I don't know what he'd think. What am I telling myself though? Aren't I, "Justa Mazing"? I don't feel as if I am.
The frantic pacing stops as Mazing drops himself down back on the steps, sitting down once more. Although, he slowly begins to rock back in forth, his mouth cupped in his hands. Slowly, he begins to stop, and places hand at his side.
Mazing: But, I want to feel that way. That's why I want to change. That's why I want to evolve. I want to be the guy I never was, the guy I always truly thought I was. Michael Kyzer faced that lier. Michael Kyzer faced a fake the first time round. He faced me, but in fact, he didn't face me in a way. I wasn't myself. For the past two years, I haven't been myself. I've been living a lie. I'm not the guy I've said I am, the guy I've been believing I am. Although, this time round, Kyzer isn't really facing my true self this time either. I'm twisted. I don't know who I am anymore. But, that's my goal isn't it? To become somebody finally, to finally found out who I really am. I shudder to think that, while he is high literally 24/7, Michael Kyzer still maintains a realm of self-awareness. While I? I'm not high. I'm just going mad. I thought I went mad this summer when I left the WFWF to fend for its own without a champion. Although, that was nothing compared to this. This doesn't even have anything to do with stress. I just don't know who the crap I am anymore. I never have. I want to find out though. Do you want to help Kyzer? Maybe if you happen to drop me on my head a couple of times the F*cking Addiction, maybe you'll knock me to my senses. Maybe one more defeat will do just that. But, just like your ever progressing drug addiction, I don't think anything can help me right now, but myself. Just me. You don't have any role to play here, Kyzer. You're just part of the evolution. You're just part of the change. I'm afraid of change. Maybe I'm afraid of you. To get where I think I need to be, I need to conquer that fear. Maybe I'll conquer you, Kyzer. Then again, I'm scared. You might already have the battle won. Though, the evolution is a must. The change is coming whether I fear it, or not.
Slowly, but surely, Mazing gets to his feet, and begins to walk off along the sidewalk. Passing the crowded streets, he progresses his way through the groups of troubled young adults as an oddly familiar bird flies overhead. However, since this bird has one red feather over the mass of brown feathers that cover it, it can not be the same one that sat opposite Mazing earlier . . . unless it changed.
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