I honestly don’t know what the fuck he was thinking. Mike Best that is of course. Did he really think that by beating me in like our twentieth HOFC match that I was somehow going to be more motivated to help his team win? I mean don’t get me wrong, the ride was fun, I had a blast leading up to it. Maybe because I again thought I could actually win. How fucking naive am I still after all these years. Nope, I got beat again by Mike and of course my hopes were once again crushed. Not only for the fact that beating Mike in HOFC might be more important than War Games itself, but that now if I can’t beat Mike, someone who has been pretty much retired, how the fuck am I going to fare in War Games against all these competitors that are… not retired.
I gave up my soul… or whatever I had left of it… for this chance to return… and now I am starting to think like it was a shit deal. I’m back in HOW and I have literally zero motivation for War Games right now. Maybe I came back too soon… maybe I should have seasoned myself in the depths of Hell a bit more before I made my deal and returned to the land of High Octane. Now that I am back, I find myself with many other things that are interesting to me other than fighting for a title in a match that I am almost surely not gonna win.
Especially with this shitty attitude.
So I guess I have a bit of a journey to take here. See if I can find that motivation in the last few days leading up to War Games… or this will just be another of those big returns that fell flat on their faces. Honestly I don’t see a path that leads me to some kind of movie like ending. Where I dig deep and find that motivation, that energy that I thought was long since gone and then go on to win War Games as the biggest underdog in a long time. What kind of fake pretend fantasy bullshit is that? This is fucking reality… reality is never that fucking good. That is why we created alcohol… and why sex is so good… and even better when you combine the two.
The point is I am at least going to give this a try… but we all know how this ends up. I’ll be the first eliminated and be lucky if there isn’t another mace impaled in the side of my fucking face by the end of the night. I know it’s shitty to be so pessimistic, but really I’m just being realistic. I know with how motivated I am right now… that this is not gonna end well. My head is not in the place for this… and that may not be a bad thing at all. Things change, people change… for the good or bad, how the fuck knows. It is all perception… all opinions.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not unhappy… far from it. Which is the problem for HOW. HOW is an escape… and when you don’t need an escape… your motivation to emerge yourself in it dwindles. There is a huge part of me that wants this. The part of me that has spent some fifteen years here in HOW. That is why I fought so hard to come back. To make the deals that I did. But now that I am back, now that I am here… I just can’t find that old drive.
I think I am starting to make peace with it… starting. It’s a tough thing to let something go that has been a part of you for so long. I mean HOW has always been… except when it closed… but even then it was there still with those that I have met along the way. Carey… or whatever is controlling her head right now might hate me, but she’ll always be one of my best friends. No matter what happens here at War Games. No matter what the future has in store for me. But I’m pretty sure I am going to have to try and beat the fuck out of whatever has taken over her right now. Or maybe not… maybe Carey needs to keep this edge she has right now. It’s really the only way to survive and thrive in HOW. Though where the fuck was that Carey when I was teaming with her? No, I get all righteous Carey that wanted to be the bleeding heart for every fucking cause in the world.
We got it Carey, most of the people suck ass on this shitty planet and they’ll all be heading to Hell for their eternal damnation. Trust me, I’ve seen it. But this Carey, she only give a fuck about herself… as it should be. That is how we as humans are really built. To only care about our own survival… and maybe that of a small pack. But only so that we ourselves can do better and compete with and beat other packs.
No, I didn’t mean to make that a comparison to War Games… cause honestly I don’t give a shit about my so-called pack. Honestly, I’d have to look it up on my phone to remember who I am even teaming with. I figure they will just let me know when I show up to the show… right? Ugh, ok, maybe I will look it up before, but not right now. Cause honestly I might just be better off if I just swing at everything that moves out there. I mean if I take everyone out, then I can’t be tied with anyone at the end when I win.
Oh yeah, cause that scenario… you winning… is so fucking realistic for this strategy to even be close to good fucking idea.
Hey! We aren’t doing the arguing with myself thing right now. I don’t need anymore issues going on right now to add an argument with myself to the list.
Oh come on though, you like arguing with…
No! I already know you’re right. You think I actually have any real thoughts that I can win this match… or even put up a respectable showing?
You really thought you could beat Mike Best in HOFC…
Well that was HOFC… that was one on one. This is War Games. This is against the whole fucking roster. I’m not totally insane.
You believe that you made a deal with The Devil to bring you back to life after you died at Rumble at the Rock. Oh and you think you’re like 10-15 years younger.
Do I not look fucking good? Also the dreads. How do you explain the dreads being fully back?
I still don’t believe that isn’t a wig.
Well I honestly don’t give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks or believes. I know what I did and that is all that matters to me. Too many people are concerned about what others think about them, their so-called status in the world. Well fucking newsflash, none of that means shit. You know what does matter? What you think about yourself. How you feel about yourself. It’s a tough lesson to learn, with how this fucking dumpster fire of a society has been devolving. Social media has destroyed the world while men like Zuckerberg and Musk reap the incredible rewards for destroying the world.
Ok, maybe Musk isn’t reaping rewards, he made a colossal fucking mistake buying Twitter… but he certainly is destroying the world. Never thought I’d say that only a few years after he decided to start an electric car company to try and save the world from fossil fuel emissions. But whoever created Twitter… fuck that man. Also Tom from Myspace? I feel like he started all of this… though the others took it to new levels of fucked up that innocent ole Tom never dreamed of.
Point is we all have become too consumed with what others think… and HOW is no exception. Everyone is jockeying for that praise of their peers. I get it, I did just that for so many years. Fighting to try and win the approval of a few to make me feel like the Best in HOW. When you have it, it feels so fucking good. It’s like a really hazy double IPA. You feel like you’re on the top of the fucking world.
But when you don’t have it… when you’re in a rut… when you’re getting shit on from all sides. It feel like fucking shit. It feels like the worst hangover you’ve ever had… and then being constantly kicked in the balls. So you continue to run in these circles, chasing that fucking high… and then falling to the lows. But each time the low gets deeper, cause you know how good that high is and it hurts that much more falling from it.
At some point you need to break that cycle. It’s not sustainable. I learned that the hard way at Rumble at the Rock. I learned that there is finally a limit to how far you can go and come back. Well, without some supernatural help of course. So with that insight… with this second chance… for some reason battling inside that War Games cell just hasn’t flipped that switch for me. Not like that HOFC fight against Mike did.
Maybe it’s cause I can’t afford mentally to get my hopes up again like I did a few weeks ago. I can’t afford for them to be cut down and stomped on when I actually think I have a shot. So is it better to just not try? Is it better to never get your hopes up? You can’t get crushed if you never have dreams… right? I don’t know. That seems like a pretty shitty way to go about things. Living in fear. Living in worry. Then again living in defeat isn’t all so great either. So what is the path to the sweet spot? How the fuck do you not fail… and achieve that victory you have been oh so tirelessly chasing?
Yeah, if I had the fucking answer to that shit I wouldn’t be bitching about all this shit for the past however long this has taken. Fucking time is a pain in the ass to keep track of… especially when you literally rolled it back by fifteen years. Sadly not back to 2008… fucking eh, imagine what I could do then with the knowledge from today. Of course sports betting, thank you Old Biff… but also just the avoidance of so many things… or changing others for the better…
Or would I just make them worse? That is the part no one ever thinks about. If you really could change a decision, a moment in your past, would it really make it better. There is no way to ever know and trust me, thinking about it too much will make your brain fucking implode. No, I like what I have done here, rolled my body back but stayed in 2023. I mean just think about the technology I’d have to go back to just fifteen years ago… nope, fuck that shit. Oh and what about the craft beers… Fuck no! Hard fucking pass.
I should be re-infused with energy though, like I was in 2008 coming into HOW… but while the body might be young, the mind surely isn’t. Maybe that is why we are not meant to live forever. Why immortality is more of a curse than any of us could ever imagine. Instead I seem more content to do anything but step into that War Games cell. Time is ticking… getting us closer and closer to show time, where I guess we will have our answer to my title question.
Let’s not everyone in HOW shout “YES” at the same fucking time you predictable fucks!
Remember though… you made a deal with me.
What did I say?! I’m not gonna have more arguments with myself.
Yourself? Ha! Still so fucking naive. You don’t think I would make a deal and not oversee it?
What, you gonna possess my body? Someone already is trying to pull that shit.
You think I’m gonna lift a finger to help you? I really could care less if you succeed or fail at your quest to get back to the top of HOW. But when you fail, when you tap out for good, I am taking back what is mine. That youth, those fifteen years you “magically” turned back time of. They are mine and if you’re not gonna use it, then I will find someone else who will.
You wouldn’t fucking dare.
You might be the so-called Anti-Christ, but remember that I am the fucking Devil… and unlike you… I always win.