Post by Joey on Feb 6, 2017 22:14:05 GMT -5
The clock strikes 1:09pm and I dont remember how long I have been staring at it. Its glowing red numbers seem to taunt me. And all i want to do is sleep. That is all I want. My body hungers for it. My mind wishes nothing more. But I cant. No matter how many sleeping pills I take, sleep still eludes me. I get up and put my feet on the side and touch the ground, I half jump up and half lean over to turn off the fan. I get in bed and take the covers off. The white covers feeling cool with my touch. And I realize I am a little warm. But worse of all, its too quiet. I do the same routine again and this time turn the fan back on, it is fine for a moment, but then I get cold, I get the covers back over me. Its a wierd thing, called San Marcos, its like a blanket made of fur, its really warm and heavy, a gift from an old departed friend. His gifts have stayed with me longer than I deserved. I twist and turn and finally give up. I half blind find the remote control on the night stand and press down on the red button and the TV comes alive. I flip through each channel and with each channel I grow more and more frustrated. I dont know why I havent slept well in days. I try to tire myself out, I try to eat so much where I might fall into a food coma but it never happens. I give up on the TV and simply mute it, I dont think sleep will come easy to me. And its even harder to sleep during day time hours. Because my mind knows if I go to sleep now I will sleep through most of the day and wake up at night and then stay up all night and it will become a viscious cycle. But the alternative is I will be awake yet again and have only managed to sleep 9 hours in three days. I cant handle that, not at this age.
For a while my mind wanders to all the things going on in SFT, Braga and Glenn have been working hard to modernize SFT. Make it viable for the future, make it so people will want to be here again. And I go along with most of it, but a part of me wants to tell them to stop. This is the house Shadow built, not just for himself but for all of us. I dont want his home changed that much. I dont want everything being changed, I dont mind a little change, but too much, too fast, I am not ready. Shadow created this place with help from many people and he left his home looking the way he wanted, his vision, and I am no ready to give that up yet. And maybe thats part of the reason why I am having trouble sleeping, but it cant be just that.
I decided to get up, taking the long walk into from my room to the kitchen, the beautiful marble floors feel so cold beneath my bare feet, I should of put on my sandles. I pass his room which remains closed. Sometimes late at night I think I can still hear him coughing, wheezing, cursing, so much pain, my god he suffered so much towards the end. I would stay up at night, and sometimes I was a coward, sometimes I would let his nurse do all the hard work, I would say I was tired and heading to bed, but really I was in my room. Sometimes I wanted to tell him I was offered another job in another city, so I wouldnt have to watch him suffer.
And I would get up at night and open his door and check on him, and when his mom stayed with us she would stop me and whisper that she already checked on him that he was still breathing and was sleeping. How messed up was that, we were checking to make sure he was still alive. I stayed, because I knew if I had run, God would punish, if there was a god. I knew if I ran I would be a coward and betray the only family I had left. And every morning I would wake up and walk into his room until one day he was gone and there was no longer anyone in that room to give pills to, to take to his radiation therapy, no one left to check his breathing, no one left to worry about, and when he died, and after we cremated him, I slept for days, I slept so soundly that I felt like I hadnt slept for years, and when I woke up I thought it had all been a bad dream, that he was still alive, that he wasnt sick. But it wasnt a dream.
Now back to this world, this is SFT.
And my anger grew even more. It multiplied by leaps, and a year after his passing I sat in an SFT board room and had some little piece of shit tell me I didnt do anything and was useless and that if I didnt shut up I would be banned, and Nirvana and Big T just stood there, like bigger pices of shits. Fuck that little piece of shit, you never asked to know our history or what I had done, you just assumed you were in charge. You were in charge of nothing. Data on a screen blipping in and out. Real power is faith, faith in others, faith that what you do is for the right reasons, not for self gratifaction or glory, or to prove you are better than anyone else. It comes from buidling something with people you respect, with people you love, it comes from knowing you would do anything for them. So little pissants, if you are reading this, you built nothing, you created nothing, all you did was judge and pass judgement, and I will you this, no one in this world or the next judges me, that is reserved for God and for the few people that I cared for, the rest of you can go to hell. And for little pissant, Nirvana and Big T, Cheeky Joge one last message, all of you will never be anything to anybody because in the end you have no heart, you come and leave and its all just a farce, you lack heart, you lack loyalty, and in the end there is no hiding that.
And with that I decide I do want to sleep. I head back to my room. I know I have a match with Robert saints coming very soon, but he hasnt shown me much that I should have to worry about. And till he does, I wont worry him just yet.
...Fade..to...Darkness.....
For a while my mind wanders to all the things going on in SFT, Braga and Glenn have been working hard to modernize SFT. Make it viable for the future, make it so people will want to be here again. And I go along with most of it, but a part of me wants to tell them to stop. This is the house Shadow built, not just for himself but for all of us. I dont want his home changed that much. I dont want everything being changed, I dont mind a little change, but too much, too fast, I am not ready. Shadow created this place with help from many people and he left his home looking the way he wanted, his vision, and I am no ready to give that up yet. And maybe thats part of the reason why I am having trouble sleeping, but it cant be just that.
I decided to get up, taking the long walk into from my room to the kitchen, the beautiful marble floors feel so cold beneath my bare feet, I should of put on my sandles. I pass his room which remains closed. Sometimes late at night I think I can still hear him coughing, wheezing, cursing, so much pain, my god he suffered so much towards the end. I would stay up at night, and sometimes I was a coward, sometimes I would let his nurse do all the hard work, I would say I was tired and heading to bed, but really I was in my room. Sometimes I wanted to tell him I was offered another job in another city, so I wouldnt have to watch him suffer.
And I would get up at night and open his door and check on him, and when his mom stayed with us she would stop me and whisper that she already checked on him that he was still breathing and was sleeping. How messed up was that, we were checking to make sure he was still alive. I stayed, because I knew if I had run, God would punish, if there was a god. I knew if I ran I would be a coward and betray the only family I had left. And every morning I would wake up and walk into his room until one day he was gone and there was no longer anyone in that room to give pills to, to take to his radiation therapy, no one left to check his breathing, no one left to worry about, and when he died, and after we cremated him, I slept for days, I slept so soundly that I felt like I hadnt slept for years, and when I woke up I thought it had all been a bad dream, that he was still alive, that he wasnt sick. But it wasnt a dream.
Now back to this world, this is SFT.
And my anger grew even more. It multiplied by leaps, and a year after his passing I sat in an SFT board room and had some little piece of shit tell me I didnt do anything and was useless and that if I didnt shut up I would be banned, and Nirvana and Big T just stood there, like bigger pices of shits. Fuck that little piece of shit, you never asked to know our history or what I had done, you just assumed you were in charge. You were in charge of nothing. Data on a screen blipping in and out. Real power is faith, faith in others, faith that what you do is for the right reasons, not for self gratifaction or glory, or to prove you are better than anyone else. It comes from buidling something with people you respect, with people you love, it comes from knowing you would do anything for them. So little pissants, if you are reading this, you built nothing, you created nothing, all you did was judge and pass judgement, and I will you this, no one in this world or the next judges me, that is reserved for God and for the few people that I cared for, the rest of you can go to hell. And for little pissant, Nirvana and Big T, Cheeky Joge one last message, all of you will never be anything to anybody because in the end you have no heart, you come and leave and its all just a farce, you lack heart, you lack loyalty, and in the end there is no hiding that.
And with that I decide I do want to sleep. I head back to my room. I know I have a match with Robert saints coming very soon, but he hasnt shown me much that I should have to worry about. And till he does, I wont worry him just yet.
...Fade..to...Darkness.....
