Post by lucasbalkan on Jun 27, 2020 16:15:30 GMT -5
A flash of light, shouting... Could be coming through the curtain at a wrestling show, there’s a similar rush of adrenaline. Except, that’s not what this was. Keep going, eyes on the prize.
It was the 29th October 2018 but really the story starts the day before, in the morning. I worked evenings a lot, it was unusual for me to be awake in the morning but here I was, awake and drinking coffee on the street in front of my apartment. I didn’t have so much to do during the day with that motherfucker Frank having left. I guess I spent so much time sitting here just in case. In case he came back.
But he never did. So, it was just another day. Two doorways along, an old woman was sitting listening to the radio and the news pierced through my morning haze. There had been a mass shooting. No surprise there, I remember thinking. This one wasn’t just any old shooting though, it was a synagogue that had been attacked and a bunch of people were dead. Some racist piece of shit thought he was doing the right thing by slaughtering a bunch of people for the sake of some “cause”...
I guess these days you would call what I have PTSD. I think. I mean, I’ve never exactly been “diagnosed”. I’ve just found ways to keep going, to handle the demons in my head as well as I can. It was best when I had Baden in my life of course, share the load and so on. But those days were long behind me.
So, in hearing about this shooting, something about it flipped a switch somewhere in my mind. Somewhere in amongst the wrestling, the MMA, the drinking, the drugs, the security jobs, the shitty experiences right from a young age... the murder of a bunch of old Jewish people in some city a few hours away really cut through.
I’m not Jewish, of course. I was raised Muslim back in Kosovo but I guess that’s where it comes from. We were those people. My family were slaughtered. Not by some lone wolf scumbag but by a scumbag state and system. Nevertheless, the innocence remains the same. It was just because we were different, just like this wS because the Jewish people are different.
The rest of the day was kind of a blur. I searched for more details as they came out, I saw the pain and the fury from those impacted and it kept ringing bells in my head. And then? The only bells were the ones in the cab as I was on shift with Uber again.
I didn’t sleep that night. So, the next day involved more coffee and more watching of the news. I kept replaying the events from Pittsburgh and the events from Prekaz, having witnessed neither but them both merging into one. Never again, isn’t that what people say every time?
Before I knew it, it was time to go to work again. Another late shift, more driving, more coffee and more hours staring straight ahead at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Come the start of my shift on the 29th, I had been awake for 60 hours or so and having drank more coffee than I ever remember. The first couple of shifts were easy, heading around town, listening to the inane bullshit of customers as I picked up and dropped off.
I was 4 hours into my shift when the tiredness hit me. I convinced myself that I needed to do at least 6 hours. So, I powered on. Focus on the road, focus on the job, eyes on the road...
I don’t know when my eyes closed. I don’t know how long I was moving without sight before the flash of light and the shouting snapped me out of it. I swerved at the last minute, missing another car by inches, hearing the furious voices of those whose lives I almost took.
Fucking hell Lucas, eyes on the prize. Never again.
What’s my prize now? Right now, it’s the next round of the SFT Lethal Lottery. Last time out, I was forced to team with the slippery Robert Saints against Candace and Cassandra. We won but not in the way anyone expected. Candace turns on Cassandra because she couldn’t be trusted, who’d of thought it?
Me. I thought it.
You were never going to trust her, Candace. It was only natural that you would snap. You have an anger in you that seems to come to the surface most when you are wronged. I’d say that Cassandra did that and she got what she deserved. Much to your satisfaction and to my benefit as I progressed and you did not.
Yet, here we are. Adversaries again.
I am determined to win this tournament, Candace, but I know that you are the same. I’m not going to insult your intelligence by saying that I wish you well because I don’t. I will be happy for you to lose and be out of this competition. I see lots of similarities between us, at the very least, we seem to dislike the same things. I’ve watched a bit of your other company now and I’ve seen the women who you have lost to. I agree that she seems a piece of shit and you’re better off out of there. I agree that social media is destroying parts of our society. I agree that there is no politicking behind your continued presence in the tournament. Yes, we dislike a lot of the same things.
Well, most of them. You seem to know my partner this week. I’m not sure what to make of Jay Impact yet. Another ICW alumni. Another former champion. After all, Candace, you say you are the governing woman of ICW but you’re not. Maybe you were. And maybe Jay Impact was a great champion.
All I ask of both of you, and our Hall of Famer acquaintance Reno Destiny, is that you keep your eyes on the prize. I get the impression that I am the only one in this match without any interest in Cassandra, for positive or negative.
But she is not here now. I am here now. I am right in front of you all and I am focused. I have fucked up before, I have been asleep at the wheel - literally and figuratively- but no more.
Candace, you have asked for a note from me and Robert Saints. I can’t promise you that. I can’t promise you that Robert can write... but maybe after this week’s match I will write to you. Maybe I will thank you.
Maybe after this match, when you look into the ring as I celebrate victory again, you’ll realise that this is bigger than you. It’s not His plan but my plan.
Thank you Candace, for being on the losing end two rounds in a row.
Eyes on the prize now, everyone. Eyes on the prize.
