Post by Alexander "The Great" Parise on Jun 20, 2009 23:55:30 GMT -5
People always though Alexander Parise was a pushover. There was no way around it, no better way to put it, people just thought that. Ever since he was a kind he always gave in to people’s demands, and he didn’t have the luxury of not caring. That was probably his biggest problem, which was probably why he gave in so easily. He always wanted to meet the approval of his family, his teachers, and his peers, but he never seemed to be good enough in their eyes. Even when people finally something in him, he wanted more, he was never happy with the title of being second best. That is what drove him to this opportunity, which is why he sat there with bloodshot eyes in the middle of the night, caring.
Parise always told people he didn’t care, that he could do what he wanted without any repercussions. He also neglected to mention the fact that he rarely slept, that his phone was always ringing off the hook with concerned friends and family on the other side. He hadn’t talked to anyone in a long time. He said Gimmick occasionally, but that was about it. He spent most of time alone, not enough having the strength to train and prepare for what was looking to be one of the most important matches of his short career. Parise couldn’t focus, his thoughts drifted, not to anything really in particular, but just definitive moments in his life. Parise thought about how he had become the man that he is, he thought about the man he was, and the man he will be. But above all he knew he couldn’t be weak, he’d been so precise saying that he is the reason people lose, and right now he was losing to himself. Parise knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want, he just didn’t know anymore.
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Parise sat on the floor of his locker room, bouncing a ball against the wall. From the small window at the top of his room you could tell it was in the middle of the night, and Parise looked tired, exhausted, but he had something on his chest, and he wanted to get it off. Parise stood up, craned his neck and stretched his arms. He turned to the camera which slowly approached him and put on his usual smirk. Just from looking at him you wouldn’t even be able to tell that something was wrong. Parise always had his mood swings, everyone did, but not like he did, he didn’t even understand it anymore.
“…”
Parise opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. He couldn’t pick the right words out, I guess that’s what happens with a lack of sleep. Parise didn’t want to be like any of those other emotional guys in this company who made this company look like a typical dram TV show. He wanted to be the way he wanted to be, he didn’t want to be a slave to company. He wanted to come right out and say what ever it was that he wanted to say. He wanted to come out and act like an actual human being, but he knew that was beyond reach. He knew that he had to say what he was supposed to say. He had to talk about Edge, Christian, and the possibility of facing his partner at Scars and Stripes. Parise still wasn’t convinced in himself, but he had a train of thought, and that’s all he needed.
“You can run far; you can take your small precautions, but have you really gotten away? Can you ever really escape? Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny? But the world is not small, you are... And fate can find you anywhere.”
Parise caught the ball he had been bouncing and didn’t throw it again. He looked at it, examining it thoroughly before bouncing it again.
“I’m a small man, meat, potatoes, not a big believer in magic, but something’s changed, I can feel it. We can all try to deny what lies in front of us, but eventually we have to open the door and face the facts that we don’t make all of our decisions. Right now I’m right where I want to be. It doesn’t matter that Edge thinks I’m going to turn on Jimmy, it doesn’t matter that most people agree with him, all that matters is that we will meet in the ring in a test of wits. The two of us are the best in the company, and we will show that at Scars and Stripes.”
Parise was rolling, he was feeling good. He stood up, ready to continue, but his facial expression changed, not to anger, not to sadness, but confusion.
“Scars and Stripes. That’s quite the name for a wrestling event. I wonder what it means? We all have our views on it, but can we really determine what it is? We fight for what we believe in every night, what makes a pay per view so special that it deserves its own special name, its own special stage? Do we as competitors take our game to the next level? Probably. But can we really lie so much on the line expecting everyone in the back to step it up? Maybe we lay too much down, maybe it’s time we stop fighting small battles every week to build up to one over hyped much and just start competing every day, in and out. Maybe it’s time for change, maybe it’s time that we as humans decide what it is we want.”
Parise smiles, he’s happy with himself, he wants things to go back to the old ways when he was just beating the hell out of Blade LaVigne, not caring for anything or anyone. He wasn’t going to admit it.
“We’re all convinced sooner or later. We just have to realize what it is we want, and who it is we’re fighting.”
“To survive in this world, we hold close to us those people on whom we depend. We trust in them our hopes, our fears. But what happens when trust is lost? Where do we run when things we believe in vanish before our eyes? We don’t. We sit and cower, we hope a new shining knight will come and save us from true danger, but when that doesn’t happen and we’ve finally lost; what then? Not even I know. I can only imagine that people will show their true sides. It doesn’t matter if its friend or foe, the weak person will feed off of them, they’ll suck the life right out of them until they’re ready to stand back up, but they don’t realize that they’ll fall back down just as fast.”
Parise slowly walks around the room, half asleep, he’ll probably regret half the things he said tomorrow when he can actually process some thought.
“Edge, I’ve strived to be approved by many people in my time, I’ve always wanted to do better in their eyes, but I’ve never been jealous. It wouldn’t matter if I am literally handing the World Title to someone I don’t like, I wouldn’t be jealous. It’s just my nature. Edge, you can’t get into my head. I’m too strong for you, not even when I’m this tired can you manipulate me into making the wrong decision. I know that Gimmick and I will defeat you and Edge, not only because we’re better as singles competitors, but the two of you hate each other, you don’t have the mental stability to compete against the greatest team in FCW history. I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Alexander ‘The Great’ died a weak man, but he was the most successful person of all time. It’s always sad to see someone go that way, losing their mind, their way. In faith and hope the world will disagree, but all mankind's concern is charity. We all look for hand-outs, but we don’t receive. We all want, but we don’t get, because we aren’t ready to throw in the towel, to wave the flag, we all want to keep fighting, just so we can find that one thing we want most. But that’s where my story ends, because there’s nothing in life that will do justice for me. I don’t want anything anymore; I just want to do what I do best. And after it’s all said and done, I know I’ll be okay."
Parise looks around his room; he doesn’t even think to himself anymore, he knows there’s no point. Anything he thinks he can’t truly express, he just wants to be able to finish what he started, to push all his ghosts and demons aside and focus on the future, it’s not much common ground for Parise, but he’ll take what he’s given, he’s learned not to be picky about these kinds of things.
“It’s a brand new day.”
Parise smiles; he looks at his clock, watching as it reaches the 12:01 mark. He finds comfort in that, he thinks to himself, finding comfort in the small things is all he really wants.
End of RP (feedback welcome)
Parise always told people he didn’t care, that he could do what he wanted without any repercussions. He also neglected to mention the fact that he rarely slept, that his phone was always ringing off the hook with concerned friends and family on the other side. He hadn’t talked to anyone in a long time. He said Gimmick occasionally, but that was about it. He spent most of time alone, not enough having the strength to train and prepare for what was looking to be one of the most important matches of his short career. Parise couldn’t focus, his thoughts drifted, not to anything really in particular, but just definitive moments in his life. Parise thought about how he had become the man that he is, he thought about the man he was, and the man he will be. But above all he knew he couldn’t be weak, he’d been so precise saying that he is the reason people lose, and right now he was losing to himself. Parise knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want, he just didn’t know anymore.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Parise sat on the floor of his locker room, bouncing a ball against the wall. From the small window at the top of his room you could tell it was in the middle of the night, and Parise looked tired, exhausted, but he had something on his chest, and he wanted to get it off. Parise stood up, craned his neck and stretched his arms. He turned to the camera which slowly approached him and put on his usual smirk. Just from looking at him you wouldn’t even be able to tell that something was wrong. Parise always had his mood swings, everyone did, but not like he did, he didn’t even understand it anymore.
“…”
Parise opened his mouth, but the words didn’t come out. He couldn’t pick the right words out, I guess that’s what happens with a lack of sleep. Parise didn’t want to be like any of those other emotional guys in this company who made this company look like a typical dram TV show. He wanted to be the way he wanted to be, he didn’t want to be a slave to company. He wanted to come right out and say what ever it was that he wanted to say. He wanted to come out and act like an actual human being, but he knew that was beyond reach. He knew that he had to say what he was supposed to say. He had to talk about Edge, Christian, and the possibility of facing his partner at Scars and Stripes. Parise still wasn’t convinced in himself, but he had a train of thought, and that’s all he needed.
“You can run far; you can take your small precautions, but have you really gotten away? Can you ever really escape? Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny? But the world is not small, you are... And fate can find you anywhere.”
Parise caught the ball he had been bouncing and didn’t throw it again. He looked at it, examining it thoroughly before bouncing it again.
“I’m a small man, meat, potatoes, not a big believer in magic, but something’s changed, I can feel it. We can all try to deny what lies in front of us, but eventually we have to open the door and face the facts that we don’t make all of our decisions. Right now I’m right where I want to be. It doesn’t matter that Edge thinks I’m going to turn on Jimmy, it doesn’t matter that most people agree with him, all that matters is that we will meet in the ring in a test of wits. The two of us are the best in the company, and we will show that at Scars and Stripes.”
Parise was rolling, he was feeling good. He stood up, ready to continue, but his facial expression changed, not to anger, not to sadness, but confusion.
“Scars and Stripes. That’s quite the name for a wrestling event. I wonder what it means? We all have our views on it, but can we really determine what it is? We fight for what we believe in every night, what makes a pay per view so special that it deserves its own special name, its own special stage? Do we as competitors take our game to the next level? Probably. But can we really lie so much on the line expecting everyone in the back to step it up? Maybe we lay too much down, maybe it’s time we stop fighting small battles every week to build up to one over hyped much and just start competing every day, in and out. Maybe it’s time for change, maybe it’s time that we as humans decide what it is we want.”
Parise smiles, he’s happy with himself, he wants things to go back to the old ways when he was just beating the hell out of Blade LaVigne, not caring for anything or anyone. He wasn’t going to admit it.
“We’re all convinced sooner or later. We just have to realize what it is we want, and who it is we’re fighting.”
“To survive in this world, we hold close to us those people on whom we depend. We trust in them our hopes, our fears. But what happens when trust is lost? Where do we run when things we believe in vanish before our eyes? We don’t. We sit and cower, we hope a new shining knight will come and save us from true danger, but when that doesn’t happen and we’ve finally lost; what then? Not even I know. I can only imagine that people will show their true sides. It doesn’t matter if its friend or foe, the weak person will feed off of them, they’ll suck the life right out of them until they’re ready to stand back up, but they don’t realize that they’ll fall back down just as fast.”
Parise slowly walks around the room, half asleep, he’ll probably regret half the things he said tomorrow when he can actually process some thought.
“Edge, I’ve strived to be approved by many people in my time, I’ve always wanted to do better in their eyes, but I’ve never been jealous. It wouldn’t matter if I am literally handing the World Title to someone I don’t like, I wouldn’t be jealous. It’s just my nature. Edge, you can’t get into my head. I’m too strong for you, not even when I’m this tired can you manipulate me into making the wrong decision. I know that Gimmick and I will defeat you and Edge, not only because we’re better as singles competitors, but the two of you hate each other, you don’t have the mental stability to compete against the greatest team in FCW history. I know I’ve said this before, but I’ll say it again. Alexander ‘The Great’ died a weak man, but he was the most successful person of all time. It’s always sad to see someone go that way, losing their mind, their way. In faith and hope the world will disagree, but all mankind's concern is charity. We all look for hand-outs, but we don’t receive. We all want, but we don’t get, because we aren’t ready to throw in the towel, to wave the flag, we all want to keep fighting, just so we can find that one thing we want most. But that’s where my story ends, because there’s nothing in life that will do justice for me. I don’t want anything anymore; I just want to do what I do best. And after it’s all said and done, I know I’ll be okay."
Parise looks around his room; he doesn’t even think to himself anymore, he knows there’s no point. Anything he thinks he can’t truly express, he just wants to be able to finish what he started, to push all his ghosts and demons aside and focus on the future, it’s not much common ground for Parise, but he’ll take what he’s given, he’s learned not to be picky about these kinds of things.
“It’s a brand new day.”
Parise smiles; he looks at his clock, watching as it reaches the 12:01 mark. He finds comfort in that, he thinks to himself, finding comfort in the small things is all he really wants.
End of RP (feedback welcome)