Month: July 2022

WWE Product

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WWE Product

Stacy Kiebler, those legs. God bless the Attitude Era and the Ruthless Aggression Eras. That version of WWE was entertaining. I am in mourning, the product WWE has today sucks. It’s too soft, politically correct and packaged. This “PG family stuff” doesn’t make for good entertainment. It’s a waste of my time. I wish I could rewind to the 90’s and early 2000’s, nothing can beat that WWE. Awesome storylines, controversial takes, groundbreaking revelations, the drama, the story, great wrestling, great gimmicks, great commentary, exciting, believable, entertaining, imaginative, innovative, full of enthusiasm, funny, sexy, a roster flooding with actual charismatic stars and just overall great content. Today’s product makes me sad. Sure they have Brock Lesnar, Roman Reigns, Charlotte Flair and Ronda Rousey but that’s ALL they have, that’s not enough. Ronda and Brock while great inside the ring have no microphone skills. Roman Reigns is aided by Paul Heyman. The company has no real stars. Back then they had The Rock, Stone Cold, HHH, Mick Foley, Goldberg, Shaun Michaels, The Undertaker, Kane and they were succeeded by Brock Lesnar, Kurt Angle, Eddie Guerrero, John Cena, Batista, JBL, Edge, Randy Orton, I could go on and on and on. The roster had an influx of talent and plenty of stars in the making. It was vibey and unpredictable. Today they have zero stars, literally just Roman Reigns. If your favorite wrestler got an injury and was out for months back then he’d have to start at the bottom when he returned, there was competition. Everyone was hungry. Ideas flowed and there was experiments. Remember the uproar Eugene caused? Some thought WWE took it way too far, certainly a character like Eugene would never see the light of day in 2022. But that’s what made the product great because of storylines and gimmicks like that. The product also lacks sex-appeal, it’s too dull, lazy, repetitive and has lost its showmanship. It’s safe and insipid with no source of inspiration. I don’t like today’s Divas, they are musculine and angry, no feminine essence whatsoever. What’s the use of having Divas in the show if they are bad imitations of the men? I remember a time when we had Trish, Lita, Micki James, Beth Phoenix, Michelle McCool, Sable, Maria, Dawn Marie, Stacy Kiebler and Torrie Wilson. Divas back then were superior, the entertainment value was better, storylines relatable and the matches were more iconic. Today’s segments and promos are uninspiring. The wrestling is awful and the commentary mediocre at best. It’s just not the same without Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler. The enthusiasm is not the same. The crowd interactions are not the same. The credibility and believability isn’t there anymore. It’s like the magic dissipated away. Maybe the Trademarks and Merchandise are selling like hotcakes but what about the product? What about the content? What about the entertainment value? Creatives need to reign again in the company for it to have a great product. The writing has to improve. Stars need to be made and integrated to the show. Showmanship and sex has to return. The “PG family” rating is dragging the show to its grave. It’s hard to get excited about a WWE match. The product is a huge disappointment, it’s been that way for a while.

To be liked or respected?

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To be liked or respected?

To be liked in the Era of social media is everything! It is social currency, it opens up doors and you can make a lot of money out of it in the form of being an influencer. It is so big and important that people do whatever to be liked. They post naked pictures, they add fuel to negativity and they spread misinformation – ANYTHING for those likes because they validate you in the digital sphere. People change themselves to be liked, they add filters to their pictures, they do stupid and foolish things for lack of better words. They do anything for attention and to be famous. Being famous means the adoration of your peers, it equates to monetary compensation, sponsorships, exclusive invitations and the opportunity to influence. Social status and likes have become more valuable than Gold.

Being respected on the other hand doesn’t bring much prestige and acclaim. It is boring, arduous and slow. To get respect you have to earn it, often through your actions. It is a mutual understanding based on the values both parties cherish. To be respected is hard work and requires you to consistently push yourself, to deliver. But even that is not enough because you can lose someone’s respect in a second after years of labor. To be respected is to be a figurehead that everybody wishes to emulate. It is standards, disciplines and values. To be respected is to be a role model. It’s difficult to be a role model because everyone projects onto you and you can’t let anybody down. You have to be exemplary. To be liked will get you expedient results that flicker like dying neon lights, while being respected will serve you for life without much acclaim.

Would you rather be liked or respected?

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Conquering Lion

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Conquering Lion

A Lion is my favorite animal, I love it! It is strong, affirmed, confident and prizes solitude. Solitude is important because that is how one develops and attains self-mastery. A Lion doesn’t concern itself with the opinions of Zebras because they are prey and it has plenty of pride. Get it? It is important to not care what people think about you. In fact, it’s not your business. Self-worth emanates from within. You are the only person who matters and your own thoughts and dreams are paramount. You don’t have to be what people say. They can suck a dick! If you internalize people thoughts it can cripple you, restrict your progress and hinder your personal growth. You can’t be trapped in dogma – other people’s thoughts and programming. A Lion doesn’t have that problem, it is the king of its life, it has a swagger in it’s walk, it is the ultimate symbol of self-actualization.

This is dramatized on Disney’s “The Lion King” as we follow a cub named Simba on his personal journey of self-realization. Simba is an archetype of the hero like Jesus Christ, Goku from Dragon Ball, Lionel Messi for FC Barcelona & Argentina and Neo from the Matrix. This means that when you follow your own heart, you will attract followers who believe in you. The Lion is the conquering hero, it is saying “No” to anything that isn’t making you grow, this “no” must be akin to a lions roar. A Lion fully asserts its will, it is the king of its life, it operates with its own conditions but is also responsible for the pack – responsibility is important, you can’t be prideful, proud and denigrate social institutions. The conquering Lion is something we must all aspire to be. We must choose to be conscious heroes of our lives and help and protect those who depend on us.

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Jerk

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Jerk

She called me jerk once and that has always been her lens. At least she doesn’t regard me as a friend and why would she when my intentions were clear from the get go “I want to fuck you”. Secretly, my direct speech turns her on, she don’t have to guess and I don’t need to pretend. What we have is pure animal attraction. The more she retreats from the passion, the more it spreads like a veldfire, scotching and blazing the globe alight. The more she resists, the stronger the bond, the chemistry. She is destined to be just another statistic. She is yearning for that, to let loose, to surrender under my hypnotic rhythm that keeps you in a trance like the Devils music, “I am gonna get ya, get ya, get ya!”. She knows I am not good for her and yet I am that repressed voice in her psyche telling her to do it, “Go for it honey, you only live once!”. I am down for YOLO just as long as she doesn’t get too attached to me. I am not your teddy bear or worse your dad. Would you want to be my mum? All this paternal talk makes my dick soft. I don’t need this.

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Gaslight Me

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Gaslight Me

They trying to gaslight me, make me lose confidence in myself like a coward in a dance, moving to shake the essence out of my character and decapitate my prospects like guillotine. They trying to make me question myself like a judge with bad morality. They don’t want me to soar, they want me to regress to mean. They plant ideas to make me doubt myself. They belittle my efforts and make me feel like I am not worthy to ride with them. They think I am dependent on them, they are trying to gaslight me. Propagating lies about me, fishing for my insecurities with a bait that doesn’t interest me. Good effort, but you barking at the wrong tree.

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Mavis

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Mavis

Aowa Mavis did you even take a bath? You wake up with beer in your hand. How are your kids going to respect you? Do you even respect yourself? Everyday it’s the same thing, different men who be trying to gain access. Aowa Mavis, your children be crying all night, where are you? We can’t be always stepping in. True, as your neighbors we have made peace but damn where are you? What kind of woman are you? Love yourself Mavis. Suffer with your children, do what it takes. You can’t be going out with different men every night. Leave the beer! You can’t be drinking everyday, at least priotize drinking only on weekends, drinking everyday is irresponsible! You love beer more than your life. What about your kids? Think Mavis think! Your kids can’t be seeing different men every night. Grow up Mavis it’s time to do things that will be beneficial to your future. You not getting any younger. Aowa Mavis do the right thing. You are a grown woman, if that guy gets you it’s all over. You know it and everybody here knows it. You can’t be changing men in front of everyone, we are grown, respect us. Mavis you are disrespectful. You don’t love us, you love us when you need something. After today no one is going to stand with you. You don’t respect anyone Mavis. Tsek! Tell that boy to go away! You are not going anywhere, respect yourself Mavis. You can do better. You can laugh but at least you know the truth. Mavis, you are wrong! You are not sitting with cartoons here. Mavis, you are useless! How can you do that in front of us? 99 vele? You have no timing whatsoever! You are useless Mavis, absolutely useless. You are not a person Mavis, you are fail, absolutely fail. Sies! Today you showed us your true colors. Are you content with being someone’s snack in the bathroom? Aowa Mavis, stop drinking alcohol. You can’t be locking the kids outside. You are a bad parent Mavis.

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I love her

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I love her.

She is my sunshine. My light in a world filled with darkness. My cherry wine. The best thing that has ever been mine. Not that she’s a possession, she’s just my everything, my world, my eternity, my forever. I first laid my eyes on her when I was a young teen. We hit it off and slowly matured like good wine. Her smile brightens my day. Her laughter nourishes my soul. She has the ability of working the room like Ginger in Casino. She makes me wish, I were De Niro, the starring role in her life. But it’s complicated. She can never be mine like Ginger. So maybe I am Ace, trapped with a woman who can never love me.

But we are best friends right?

Get the rizzla and we will create clouds in the sky. We will talk about the future. We will talk about our dreams and how I need you in my life. How I will love you until you go numb. We can talk about our kids and expensive mansions with exported gates, big trees and high fences. The bespoke clothes, shoes, cars and luxury brands. Everything and more if you can be mine. Grant me that chance, that opportunity of a lifetime. Be my Daisy, my greenlight. I have everything set up for us. I have been building and hence I have left you vacant. But only you occupy my heart. Everyone else is just a tenant and as the landlord they are evicted.

I love her

You are mine. I love you. You make me feel good. You give my life purpose. You complete me, make me whole. You take good care of me. You care about me, you make me feel special. You are kindness personified. You make me feel like I can fly, like there’s nothing I can’t accomplish. I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to be with anyone besides you. I love you.

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Pregnant

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Pregnant

I got my girl pregnant. I don’t know what to make of it. My emotions are scattered like nonlinear data. I feel like a bipolar patient. Damn!

I hope it’s a boy, that would make my dreams come true. Not that I wouldnt want a beautiful little girl. I would give her the world. My father died when I was a little boy and it crushed me. It’s unfair how I never got a fair chance at life. I grew up without a father and it’s a feeling, I wouldn’t wish for an enemy. It’s something I wouldn’t wish for Satan, we all need love. But I hear his voice in my head suggesting, whispering to take fleet. To hit the road jack and never come back, no more, no more, no more.

It’s a thought I am flirting with but it’s not serious. Still, it lurks in the darkness like a thief like the night. Will I ultimately yield to the Devils suggestions? Do I yield to his wit? His solutions do provide an escape. An avenue to start a fresh and a new canvas to commence a different painting. The Devils solutions cancel all preexisting mistakes. They terminate stupidity. And maybe that’s all it was, not that I regret the pussy. Quite the opposite, it really was a slice of heaven. Her pussy was warm and toasty, delicious. It was accommodating. It was like being in an oven. It was tight and pulled me in like a zip. Her pussy was like an asylum, It was absolutely crazy! So maybe I am a coward. After all, I took her innocence and planted falsified tales about our future together in her mind.

I am not ready to be a father.

These are all thoughts, nothing is definite. I would never do that to her. Although, I do have fears of being a bad father. Am I enough? Will my kid be proud of his father? Do I have it in me to be a good father? What about my future, my dreams. The timing is bad. I just don’t think children raising children is a good idea. I am not ready. I still have a mother, I can’t be a father. I can’t give my child the future he deserves, one that I never had. How am I going to take care of him when I don’t want a job? How am I going to get a job when I didn’t go to school? Why must you demand so much of me? How is that fair? Why must you win?

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Don’t wait up…

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Don’t wait up!

I told her straight up “don’t wait up!” I was serious as a heart attack. If something better came along she was free to board along and experience the voyage like a cruise because the cost of not doing so was Titanic! Not that I don’t hold myself in high-esteem but I was being practical. Unlike an IPO, I had nothing to offer in a monetary sense. Like a shattered mirror I was irrevocably broke. But I did love her but what’s love got to do with it if you can’t provide? Without money, what are you? Surely, not a man because a man needs money to exist and navigate reality. Money represents power and I had none like a weakling. Devoid of muscle, how can I carry my lady like the queen she is all over the world? Better men exist in the world, men who can grant her whatever her heart desires. Men who can love her without insecurities. Men who can touch, stroke and caress her like the keys of a piano. Men who can satisfy her sexual urges, kiss her, make her moan a 8pmnd groan like the horns in a Jazz festival. I am the shadow of that man and hence my appearance at the rear. Jealously is not practical and conducive for a flourishing life. Not that I have never been jealous before, I have. I remember the distinct feeling of wanting to possess my love object like a demon, ironically I was the one possessed. Needless to say she saw right through me and chose to hike to a better life. Life requires flexibility and the presence of mind to hop onto a moving train en route to your destination. Stagnation leads to decay. Life is a continual process of evolution and hence, she will find better, it’s mothernature’s will. I don’t say this to drive her away or to instigate mind games, I do this because my love for her is as white as snow. I would hate to be a burden. I wouldn’t want to hinder her progress towards becoming. The worst thing that could happen to me is that she stays with me because she is obligated and contracted like a marriage. Love is simply electrical signals and chemicals processed by the brain and body, it is not enough to sustain all of life. Me and her are not enough, moreso that I am stripped of financial resources. I think all the time about how I wish things were better. I see myself as an archetype of a great man. However, greatness takes time. It would be unfair of me to ask her to stay along even though I know things are going to be better. With time we will have everything, including the capital to purchase Satan’s soul. But how do I make that vow to her in a subjective reality? Am I even in a position to make that vow? What makes me so confident to believe I can win a rigged game? I don’t know, it’s just something I feel. Something I want to believe with my whole being. I realize how laughable my sentiments are that’s why I propose “don’t wait up!” If something better comes along, don’t hesitate, make the climb to the rest of your life. Make memories, start a family and create a life. I will never hold that against you. I have been chasing dreams for years and now finally I realize that they were illusions, hallucinations only prevalent in my own inner theater. Everything is an illusion and our minds hallucinates reality, and as such to share what’s in my inner theater would be to delude you because it’s not in the objective. I told her don’t wait up to encourage her to chase what is objective and prevalent in reality. Everything else is just fairy dust, wishful thinking and maybe that’s my claim to fame. Maybe I am guilty of this. There is no evidence that I will make it. Such is the certainty of life; the fact that nothing is certain. Instead of victory, I have a vault of business entities that didn’t make it. Promises that has been extinguished. She deserves better than promises. She deserves better than my “feelings of greatness” and even though she loves me, just don’t wait up. A

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Frieza’s Hell

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Freezas Hell

I was rugged unworthy and exposed like a dog on the street used to hostility and visions of being battered like a cricket ball. I was used to fighting for scraps in the streets, a bum, ass out broke like a mirror. Hell was my paradise and the streets my home. The corners represented a chance to be somebody, even if it meant hurting somebody. Cause who cares? The world’s cold like a dead corspe, totally unresponsive to our hopes and dreams. I tried to be in love but I failed, I suffered. For it required taking off a mask that was made permanent by time. It was not time, and my battle scars were deep as the ocean and I was swimming, drowning in vain. She could never understand my pain. She was evergreen and beaming like Mercury, bright, happy and optimistic. She was the type of girl who chased butterflies in the sun. The girl who loved colorful dresses and pulled up her hair. The type of girl who breathed twice just to enjoy the air. Stupidity and inexperience crowded her head. She lived in the sky and believed anything was possible. She was sensitive and possessed the empathy of a child playing with her toys, attuned to my feelings and emotions like a satellite. It made me uncomfortable. I was like a dog that cannot bear being treated with humility. All I knew was being kicked and limping to the next day. It was my reality. She represented a reality that was foreign, induced with xenophobia I could not stand it. It was like Freezas hell, filled with lilies, roses, teddy bears, blossoming life and the bright blue sky. I felt I was living a lie, one that was undetectable by a polygraph. She was too good for me and I couldn’t stand it.

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