Two Weeks… Alone & Isolated?

Two Weeks… Alone & Isolated?

Posted on October 22, 2020 at 12:59 pm by Scottywood

Loneliness is a dangerous thing.  People are social creatures.  We need to interact with others so we can keep ourselves grounded in reality.  It’s why people debate that solitary confinement is torture on par with waterboarding and hooking jumper cables up to a man’s testicles.  The scars may not be visible… but I’ll fucking murder the fucker who doesn’t think they are real. 

Because here I sit, alone in my cell.  I couldn’t say how many days it had been.  People may say they have some kind of internal clock.  That they can wake up on a dime when they need to… no need for an alarm. 

Fuck those stupid ass people and their bullshit self gratification statements.  Time is a fucking concept, created by man.  You’re body doesn’t give a fuck about it.  It’s all based on input our mind takes in constantly.  Remove that input… you’re mind doesn’t have a fucking clue. All I have to go on are the trays of food that are thrown into the cell… and fuck if I trust Lee Best to administer those on any kind of appropriate timeline.  Breakfast at five in the afternoon.  Dinner at eleven in the morning.  Those are the kinds of games Lee best loves to fucking play.  That is how he gets his wrestling fix in this business.  He’ll never raise a HOW Title above his head… but he’ll fuck you over five ways to fucking Sunday.

No Stevens… the Best Alliance winning the Stable Titles does not count as a title reign for Lee… fucking eh!

So as you see… when you remove human interaction… when you remove outside stimulation… your mind starts to wander.  And no, I’m not talking about day dreaming in some shitty business meeting or some useless class.  Or even your bullshit claim that you have ADD just cause you can’t focus on the shifty tasks that fill your meaningless life.  Try really having ADD… see how really miserable that shit is. 

No, I’m talking about when you start drawing stick figures on a concrete wall in your own blood just so you have someone to fucking talk to. When you start arguing with fictitious Scott Stevens about HOW title history stats.  When you start having alcohol withdrawal hallucinations…

It’s one thing to deprive an alcoholic of his fix.  He’ll lose his fucking shit for sure.  He’ll do whatever he can… whatever he needs to so he fends off sobriety.  But it’s a whole nother thing to deprive that from a former alcoholic who has just recently decided to not just fall off but to set the fucking wagon on fire.  Especially when he has started to use that alcohol to cope with the one thing that solitary confinement exacerbates… loneliness.

You think this is funny Lee?  Are you getting off on this?  Some sick kind of fucking fetish?  Ok… maybe that was too far… but fuck you Lee!  Solitary Confinement on my own island… held by my own guards… before a match for MY LSD Title.  You must really HATE Hughie.  Because this is going to do nothing but add to the utter skull fucking that is going to occur when this match starts.

They use solitary to break the minds of those put in it.  But I’ve long since been broken Lee.  We both know there is nothing right inside my head.  It’s been fucked up for a long time.  Most likely long before Chris Diamond scrambled the fuck out of it.  Before getting my skull cracked open by Kostoff in our infamous LSD Title battles back in twenty-o-eight.  Probably even before I thought that I should be running my own wrestling company at the start of the millennium. 

Fuck… that was twenty years ago?

I wasn’t even a man back then.  I never imagined my life ever turning out like this back then.  This certainly isn’t the shit a barely post teenager dreams about when they set out on a new career… a dream career.  Locked in a cell for two weeks… awaiting a shot at regaining the woman that has dumped him on five previous occasions.

Twenty years of my head… my brain… my mind being beaten, battered and broken until one can seriously wonder if there is anything left to it.  Chasing straps of leather with fucking gold pancakes attached to them.  Becoming so obsessed with it that he’d confuse winning it for a personal relationship.  Because let’s be honest here… what actual person would ever want to be with someone like… like… like me.

This is where you could describe me as being in utter despair.  Realizing that there is always further the mind can break.  Deeper down the rabbit hole of insanity one can travel.  That there is no end… not bottom of hit, so that you can start to climb back out of it.  Just falling… further… and further.  Just lying to everyone that things are getting better.  That everything is turning around and that you are a better man now.

They say that being alone… that doing something on your own makes you stronger.  Not relying on someone else… or something else to help you through the fucking dick shots that life hands you on a daily basis. 

Those people are fucking liars. 

Peddling bullshit in order to keep those alone off the fucking ledge until they can find that someone that will make everything better.  It’s all about control.  We as humans need to be controlled… but just enough to believe we are free.  Too much control and they crack… too much freedom and we will abuse every bit of it.

This is why I need her Hughie.  This is why I need to have the LSD Title back.  She will compete me.  She will help keep me off that ledge.  Because I know the secrets… I don’t believe the bullshit they spew in order to reign us in as a society.  There isn’t an anarchy symbol tattooed on my fucking chest just because I think it looks cool.  I know all their tricks to prevent anarchy from running wild on this planet.  Religion.  Government.  Laws.  Social “Norms”.  All bullshit concepts created to control us.

But love Hughie… love and HATE are the only things that are real.  They are chemical.  They are something that we can not control.  That is how I know that your HATE for me is real.  That you HATE me for using you and intentional self-imploding HATE for my own personal gains.  You certainly HATE me for imprisoning your worthless ass in this prison.  Even though you’ve had your best moments in HOW since being here. 

You HATE me because you know… deep down inside… that the truth is you would have never won the LSD Title if it wasn’t for me.  If it wasn’t for me carefully planning every step along the way for you.  You know that once I pull the rug out from under you at Rumble at the Rock… that it is all over.  That once the puppeteer cuts the strings from his puppet, you’ll be nothing.  There is no real boy Pinocchio story coming out of this Hughie.  Like I said… that Disney fairy tale crap is utter bullshit.  There will be no Jiminy Cricket to save your ass. 


Fucking zip it Frankie!  I don’t need to hear your lip about it.  Fuck Walt and his fucking movies.  The man stole most of the ideas anyways from old stories anyways.  What the fuck did he ever come up with on his own beside a hatred for…


Ya, ya, ya I know that is all hearsay.  Maybe when they unfreeze his fucking head we can know for sure.

The point is Hughie… I know all about your HATE because I’m the one that put every ounce of it there.  Lee Best may be the GOD of HOW, but I am the DEVIL of HATE.  So you can continue with your façade of being some kind of mentally deranged deviant from the shit hills of whatever trailer park you used to call a home.  But just like I have for the past many months… I will continue to pull all the strings of HATE that control you.  Then, once she is back with me… I will discard whatever is left of you in that fucking cell to rot away like the piece of fucking trash you are… and will always be.

That of course Hughie is all before we get to the love that I have for her.  The love that has driven me for the past twelve years here in HOW ever since I set my sights on her at War Games 2008.  Oh the fucking chaos that Kostoff caused to retain her.  Destroying his own team members just to ensure that he left War Games with her.  I gave him a good run for his money that night… I was so damn close… she was almost mine.  But it was not meant to be just yet.  It would take me just one short month to win her over from Kostoff.  Some may say I had help from Narcotic that night… but I’d like to think I just had a Hell of a wing man.

I would go on to prove just how far I was willing to go to keep and win her back as I crucified Ken Davidson on this very rock… and beat Kostoff at his own game inside House of Pain.  I’ve battled in street fights around the world.  At the Alamo.  Taipei death matches… whatever the fuck that shit was that Witness concocted.  So if that is where I have been willing to go… where is the line Hughie?  What is the limit?  How far am I willing to go for love?  For her?  To no longer feel that pain that has spread to every corner the giant void left from the last time she rejected me.

I know you’re a hell of a fighter Hughie… a scrapper indeed.  Someone who claims they will do whatever they need to do to win.  Plus no one wants to be on the wrong side of a Fatality Punch… that is for sure.  But you can pull out all the Mortal Kombat bullshit you want.



I don’t care if that is Street Fighter Frankie…

Cause however far you think you are willing to go to win here Hughie… I am willing to go much further.  I know you’re willing to kill for this title.  I watched you light Lucian on fire.  You didn’t give a single fuck.  You had… No Remorse.  But just I beat Kostoff and his No Remorse not once… but twice.  I can and will beat yours.  You think you can FINISH HIM and beat The Hardcore Artist… The Anti-Christ… The Hall of Famer… Scottywood.  But I was far from finished back in two thousand and eight when I signed with HOW… and that is still the case in this shit fuck of a year twenty-twenty. 

Despite all the shit that has been thrown at me over the past twelve years… I have to crumble like so many other so called greats have.  I could rattle off a laundry list of names that had great runs here in HOW… but why waste my breathe because where the fuck are they now?  Flashes of greatness… for fucking sure… but then maybe one hiccup or two and the passion fades?  They fade into the history of HOW with their fucking panties in a giant bundle.  I tasted the highs in HOW.  I’ve been HOW World Champion.  But I’ve also weathered the storm of the lows… and trust me, there have been some pretty shitty ones here.  I could have easily bitched… moaned… cried about how I thought shit was unfair. 

Oh how I love to hear the fucking excuses.  The bitching when something didn’t go the way of these fuckers who thought they were untouchable.

But no… I didn’t take the easy way out and run from HOW to go somewhere where things would be easier.  You all know the people and places I’m talking about.  Like I said… I’ve moved on from the days of petty Twitter wars when I would have name dropped them until Twitter nearly fucking exploded.  But they’re not worth my time these days.

Now my focus is on her… and giving her the life that she deserves.  Putting her back on that pedestal where she deserves instead of some rat infested, trailer park slum life that I could only imagine you’d be living in if I didn’t upgrade you to that fucking cell here at Alcatraz.  See what I have done for you Hughie… and you haven’t appreciated a single fucking bit of it.  So ungrateful… so ignorant of everything.  But don’t worry.  I’ll make it clear to you Hughie.  By the end of this… you will understand where you belong in all this.  As just another brick in the wall of our love Hughie…






I know punching the bricks is not the same as punching him Frankie!  


Shut the fuck up Frankie!  I’m not losing it!  I have it all under control!  It is still all going according to my plan! 


What do you have to say now Frankie? 

Where is your next witty fucking comment?  



Silence… alone with my own fucking silence… down the rabbit hole I continue.

Oh… if only Alice could see me now…