Post by "Sick" Billy Kryenik on Jan 2, 2006 10:57:38 GMT -5
(Beep. The camera begins to roll with lines of aged and crinkled film stretching across the screen as the camera finds it’s focus.)
…Breath…
(The lens takes focus, and the scene is as familiar as the uneasy feeling in the stomach of men when they realize that some putrid has happened. Water stained walls that have browned because of precipitation and time, dim 40 watt bulb in a broken light cover, mold and debris all over the floor and lower walls. The floor is wooden, with many cracks and spaces.)
…Breath…
(Loud gasping from all around the camera.)
…Creak…Breath…Creak...
(Footsteps circle the camera, but no mortal to be seen.)
…Creak…Crunch…Breath…Breath…
(The camera turns full circle, shooting its light beam into all four corners of the boxed room. The footsteps and breath remain ahead of the light with only the heals of worn black shoes are scene being chased out by the light.)
…Breath…Stomp!..
(The camera rattles out of focus and a man steps into the fuzzy screen. He puts his face close to the camera and breaths onto the lens. It becomes even more foggy. The mans finger touches the lens and drags across it slowly, revealing the man more clearly.)
…Breath…Breath…Breath…hu…hu…hu…ha…Ha… HA… HAHA!!!
(The figure takes a step back, tilting his head to the left and then to the right. The focus is clear and we can see who is standing there. A familiar face to some, a stranger to others. In the words of Deep Purple, “We must remain, Perfect Strangers” can only echo in the heads of the reader. The man chuckles to himself with his shoulders bouncing with the adjoining laughs.)
…: Three years.
(Pause, head shift to center.)
…: Three years I have been in exile. Not a word, not a breath, not an action, nothing for the public, or more so my private life to see. No family, no friends, no enemies. Just me and my little games I play, toppling the towers of sanity, reaping the rewards of insanity. Occupying myself with finger taps and head twitches. Trying to find a reason for how I could still be here and a loving father of two dies at 25. Life, life it seems is something in which the good die and the evil stay to torture the next herd of wellness zombies. Sluggishly searching for the next polite word to say, squirming inside when they try and sit for a moment to take it all in. Life isn’t as precious as these people would like to think it is. It isn’t something that comes once, or twice. In truth, it’s as if we have never existed at all. With greenhouse gases slowly killing us, and decomposing the living, soon enough it won’t be a question of how, it will be a question of who. But I won’t be the fool searching for answers to why my daughter was raped in a dark park. I know the reasoning. These walls are the reason, these water stains corroding the particles are the reason. Evolution is the reason. Not God, not the Devil, just humanity. Just molecules, bacteria and time. Given enough time, a human mind can rot into something so volatile and vulnerable that it will force them to forget all reasoning and go straight for the urges that humans have long forgotten. The human emotion of primal carnage that has been pushed out of social acceptance because of fear that we will all destroy each other.
…Breath…
…: Take a look around! We are still killing each other. We are still destroying each other, even when we are given 2 minutes for having impure thoughts. Life is the enigma that is the never ending circle. We are told not to hate, so we love. We love another, a wife, a child, a mother, a father, but love and hate share the same border. It is all passion. It can all be grouped as one emotion with a different name to make it sound as if we have a choice. There is no choice. Your passion for another person can be evil but you call it love to control yourself. You know your own mind and it tells you that if you hate, you will be hated! Well I say be hated… hate what you will and love what you want because in the full circle it never matters anyway because there is always someone who will act on his human primitivism and act upon it. Extend your hand to life itself and shake the broken hand of hope and revolution. The circle of evolution is the staples that hold that hand together. You evolve over time, you grow, you fall in love, you get married, you get (BLEEP)ed, you have a baby, and soon enough you’re just a shell of who you used to be and you haven’t even noticed the time fly. Now can it be that someone can chose to have an understanding with this evolution and choose to evolve the way they want too in order to escape this progressive repetition and walk a path that is over grown by moss and weed? Of course, because in the full circle that progressive repetition will then become the mossy path as everyone begins to escape realism and pregnancy.
…Breath…
…: I’ve evolved. I had a child hood. I had parents, I had friends, I had a career, I had championships and I had this primitive urge to destroy everything that came down that mossy path after me. In hindsight I am the Gatekeeper, the Grader of Morality. I am testing you, and choosing whether or not you are mentally tough enough to be what society chooses to abandon. I’ve let one or two men and women pass, and those people are here with me. Here in the circle of evolution, knowing and waiting for their circle to complete so they can start again with a new shape to square off against. All good things must come to an end. The end brings new beginning, and as soon as I make my first appearance in an NAPW arena the full circle will have completed, and a new one will commence.
…Breath…
(The man turns his back to the camera. His body is exposed a little more and it shows scars and tattoo’s draping his body. The letters “K-R-Y-E-N-I-K” span from shoulder to shoulder in black ink. A shape of a dagger has been scarred into his back spanning from his lower shoulders to his lower back. He turns around once more.)
Kryenik: Be warned, your towers have already begun to crumble...
(Beep. Camera fades to black.)
…Breath…
(The lens takes focus, and the scene is as familiar as the uneasy feeling in the stomach of men when they realize that some putrid has happened. Water stained walls that have browned because of precipitation and time, dim 40 watt bulb in a broken light cover, mold and debris all over the floor and lower walls. The floor is wooden, with many cracks and spaces.)
…Breath…
(Loud gasping from all around the camera.)
…Creak…Breath…Creak...
(Footsteps circle the camera, but no mortal to be seen.)
…Creak…Crunch…Breath…Breath…
(The camera turns full circle, shooting its light beam into all four corners of the boxed room. The footsteps and breath remain ahead of the light with only the heals of worn black shoes are scene being chased out by the light.)
…Breath…Stomp!..
(The camera rattles out of focus and a man steps into the fuzzy screen. He puts his face close to the camera and breaths onto the lens. It becomes even more foggy. The mans finger touches the lens and drags across it slowly, revealing the man more clearly.)
…Breath…Breath…Breath…hu…hu…hu…ha…Ha… HA… HAHA!!!
(The figure takes a step back, tilting his head to the left and then to the right. The focus is clear and we can see who is standing there. A familiar face to some, a stranger to others. In the words of Deep Purple, “We must remain, Perfect Strangers” can only echo in the heads of the reader. The man chuckles to himself with his shoulders bouncing with the adjoining laughs.)
…: Three years.
(Pause, head shift to center.)
…: Three years I have been in exile. Not a word, not a breath, not an action, nothing for the public, or more so my private life to see. No family, no friends, no enemies. Just me and my little games I play, toppling the towers of sanity, reaping the rewards of insanity. Occupying myself with finger taps and head twitches. Trying to find a reason for how I could still be here and a loving father of two dies at 25. Life, life it seems is something in which the good die and the evil stay to torture the next herd of wellness zombies. Sluggishly searching for the next polite word to say, squirming inside when they try and sit for a moment to take it all in. Life isn’t as precious as these people would like to think it is. It isn’t something that comes once, or twice. In truth, it’s as if we have never existed at all. With greenhouse gases slowly killing us, and decomposing the living, soon enough it won’t be a question of how, it will be a question of who. But I won’t be the fool searching for answers to why my daughter was raped in a dark park. I know the reasoning. These walls are the reason, these water stains corroding the particles are the reason. Evolution is the reason. Not God, not the Devil, just humanity. Just molecules, bacteria and time. Given enough time, a human mind can rot into something so volatile and vulnerable that it will force them to forget all reasoning and go straight for the urges that humans have long forgotten. The human emotion of primal carnage that has been pushed out of social acceptance because of fear that we will all destroy each other.
…Breath…
…: Take a look around! We are still killing each other. We are still destroying each other, even when we are given 2 minutes for having impure thoughts. Life is the enigma that is the never ending circle. We are told not to hate, so we love. We love another, a wife, a child, a mother, a father, but love and hate share the same border. It is all passion. It can all be grouped as one emotion with a different name to make it sound as if we have a choice. There is no choice. Your passion for another person can be evil but you call it love to control yourself. You know your own mind and it tells you that if you hate, you will be hated! Well I say be hated… hate what you will and love what you want because in the full circle it never matters anyway because there is always someone who will act on his human primitivism and act upon it. Extend your hand to life itself and shake the broken hand of hope and revolution. The circle of evolution is the staples that hold that hand together. You evolve over time, you grow, you fall in love, you get married, you get (BLEEP)ed, you have a baby, and soon enough you’re just a shell of who you used to be and you haven’t even noticed the time fly. Now can it be that someone can chose to have an understanding with this evolution and choose to evolve the way they want too in order to escape this progressive repetition and walk a path that is over grown by moss and weed? Of course, because in the full circle that progressive repetition will then become the mossy path as everyone begins to escape realism and pregnancy.
…Breath…
…: I’ve evolved. I had a child hood. I had parents, I had friends, I had a career, I had championships and I had this primitive urge to destroy everything that came down that mossy path after me. In hindsight I am the Gatekeeper, the Grader of Morality. I am testing you, and choosing whether or not you are mentally tough enough to be what society chooses to abandon. I’ve let one or two men and women pass, and those people are here with me. Here in the circle of evolution, knowing and waiting for their circle to complete so they can start again with a new shape to square off against. All good things must come to an end. The end brings new beginning, and as soon as I make my first appearance in an NAPW arena the full circle will have completed, and a new one will commence.
…Breath…
(The man turns his back to the camera. His body is exposed a little more and it shows scars and tattoo’s draping his body. The letters “K-R-Y-E-N-I-K” span from shoulder to shoulder in black ink. A shape of a dagger has been scarred into his back spanning from his lower shoulders to his lower back. He turns around once more.)
Kryenik: Be warned, your towers have already begun to crumble...
(Beep. Camera fades to black.)