These posts are a celebration of life and the pursuit of a dream.....and big hair.
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Tennis Court - Lorde
Last night; fought my way through 3 matches in 1 night to call myself the 2nd ever Pro Wrestling EGO Great Southern 8 winner. 3 CHIKARA Specials did the trick! This is my first tournament win EVER and a proud moment for me. Georgia takes it home again and you can add “King/Kang of the South” to the accolades list.
Now we aim higher. ;)
For now, enjoying the moment.
Ch-ch-changes. If you don’t like how you look; you’ve got the power. Fix it. Looking better and feeling better going into 2014 :)
Shared with Dropbox
For those that keep up with my lovely slice of blog heaven at The Halfcourt Lounge; my last post was about how rough a workout can be without headphones.
Sad to say, a workout with no music is like red velvet cake without the icing. It can be done, but you lose out without the two together. My nearest and dearest know that music is huge to me. I’ve made it a point to have a personal music device of some sort and I’m an easier person to deal with when I do.
Then they raised the stakes.
-Trumpets blast from the heavens-
Handpicking the songs you need for that feeling or event. I go to great lengths to tailor a playlist. Constantly picking at the flow, content, usefulness of songs I let in. I’m especially thoughtful about the playlist I use to workout with, dubbed “The Move”. Sometimes I listen to certain sections. Other times, shuffled. Just depends on the mood.
I know this much, I pick things that tug at me. If it makes me run a bit faster, lift a bit harder, or even have a bit more fun while I’m willingly tearing my body down; it’s gotta be considered.
So today, I decided to share this with a very nice lady who’s a big part of the RESISTANCE Pro family, Jenny (@Aniviel on Twitter. Send her smileys and just smileys. She LOVES that.). She’s been back on her gym grind as of late, so I thought it’d be nice to share some of what motivates me with her. Maybe the culture shock is just what the doctor ordered.
So after 30 grueling minutes of uploading (:p) I have my most recent version of the playlist up for the public. Take what you need from it, use the whole thing, or think about how many different artists and styles come together to take me to where I need to be. It’s a labor of love putting this together and more so: it’s a deeper reflection of what I stand for. Didn’t even realize it until this sentence.
For what lies ahead for me, knowing what I stand for can only be a good thing. I just hope whatever you find in here pushes you closer to your dream.
In closing, enjoy and if anybody asks me “What’s a Radiohead” in the essence of Frank Ocean’s “Nostalgia Ultra” mixtape; I will personally karate chop you.
Click the title to see what you’re downloading + download OR CLICK HERE!
The struggle is real.
I thought Future’s existence in rap was completely useless until this video. This beautiful; wonderful video. As a side effect, don’t be shocked if you have a sudden urge for codeine.
This tournament is very special for me. I feel like I’ve been away from the South far too long. My goal, when I felt ready, was to see how much the world could offer outside of Georgia. Thanks to CHIKARA, DGUSA, AIW, and other awesome promotions throughout the US and the world; I have indeed seen that and hopefully even more.
Like any good athlete, it’s good to know when to dial back so that you can push forward. I’ve had to make those changes in my life to make sure I’m not only at my best anytime you pay money to see me; but also so that when the spotlight is off, I’m still true to myself and well. I hope that answers questions to those who notice I’m not taking EVERY weekend to be on the road. That’s by design and my choice.
So if you can be there November 16th; I look forward to going all the way and delivering for my state. I’m a proud Georgia boy and it’s personal for me to prove that my heart has NEVER left the South or abandoned anything it gave me. Hope to see you in Clinton, MS and enjoy this promo and enjoy what comes next! :)
60 minutes. Begin.
You get the elliptical moving; driving your legs with purpose from the start. Screw warming up or easing in. It’s a mad dash. The shifting of the machine joints echo over the music throbbing in your ears. Each movement your legs force it to make growing faster and stronger; almost violent. It brings reminders of people cautiously asking about why you walk in that same manner in your everyday life. Their lack of knowledge about you confuses the WHY of your walk as a violent rush.
It’s a purposeful stride. Assured of the destination even if it isn’t in immediate sight. All it’s ever been is a chase to you anyway.
That chase started as your answer to doubt. A mother who knew the business would break you. The locker room that pegged you a quitter after less than 2 weeks. The classmates and co-workers that heard your statement of being a wrestler like it was in a foreign language.
All you could think to do was move. Move as fast as you could in the opposite direction of their criticism. Pray you could outrun it until the sound was faint in the wind you kicked up. It was a time of frustration and confusion; but even if you weren’t doing it well, you were DOING it. More than others could say. But anger filled your steps. You wouldn’t find ease in them until you were accepted. Until you truly belonged and they knew it too; by “they”, anyone in tights to those who’d never wear them.
Changed your gimmick. Found the right guidance. Toiled. Made some people pay attention. Even made a few believe. Maybe you can rest finally or at least pace yourself. But then you trade in your old issues for new ones.
Your act is “cute”, but it’ll never go anywhere. You’re just not good enough. Why are you in our locker room? Be a manager, backstage presence, referee, even work production…but wrestling just ain’t for you.
Now your steps are fiery AND broad. It’s not enough to be intense; but open your scope at that. Think bigger. Get their attention. Make them regret every harsh word. Even if they don’t regret em’, screw it, annoy them with how much your name comes up in conversation.
Keep running away. Faster and faster until their voices are faint in the wind behind you.
The sweat beads down. Your body is telling you "HELL NO" any and every way it can get your attention. Ignorance to it all.
Finally claw into something of your own. Get noticed. Feel the spotlight dance on your skin. Hear and see your name come up in zip codes and country codes you’d never think it’d reach. That’ll show them. I can finally stop running. My legs can rest…
Less time at home, more time on the road. Personal life falling apart to sustain newfound opportunity. The criticism grows; failure judged on an even higher level and the magnifying glass even stronger. Questions about why you have a spot asked with such thought, even you begin to consider the position. People acting like you’ve changed when all you want is a taste of success. Sharing locker rooms with peers younger, stronger, and more in tune than you believe yourself to be. Catch up all over again.
Your steps aren’t just broad anymore. They aren’t just fiery. Now they stomp into the ground with power; a clap that’d make a thunderstorm quiver with each step. You have to cement who you are and what you stand for. You’re here to stay.
Keep running away. Faster and faster until their voices are faint in the wind behind you.
You find your niche. Some get you, some don’t. You accept that and stunt regardless. You’re assured. More and more, people GET you. Even what and who you’ve lost hurts a little bit less with every match and every new smile you create. Mayweather force backs your hands as the handles rocket back and forth. Time is irrelevant in this run. Just keep moving.
Slow down maybe?
Unfortunately, that’s not the plan.
Lost jobs because of too many “personal” weekends. Dedication called into question when all you need is time to make sure food is on the table. A mangled arm held together by a steel plate and 7 screws; the feeling of flesh gone until the day you die. Tiny holes have become canyons regarding the relationships in your life. The “brothers” you thought you could count on reveal cold shoulders when times are rough; true colors revealed to be the ones you hate.
The face you see in the mirror can’t stand you. Blames you for every bad thing he endures. Perhaps he’s right. The feeling is mutual.
The worst part? The confusion. You’re running. But do you even remember what for? How lost have you become in all this? Is it worth getting on track?
At this point, it’s not voices you run from. Just one. Yours. That same reflection you hate so much. The fire, power, and broadness of your steps remain. Add frantic to the mix. Misguided and steadily moving with a broken internal compass. You’re falling apart, Sugar.
Keep running away. Faster and faster until you become a faint image in the wind.
The machine wants you to cool down. You say screw it. Since when have you slowed down? Even in the face of oblivion; I’ll meet it in a dash and not a saunter. Coated in sweat. Breaths heavy. Heart racing.
There IS no stop until the end. This gets seen through.
You remember what this dash was about. It started for acceptance. Then to prove. Then to cement. Then escape.
But at the core; it’s always been about the dream. That opportunity as small as the opening on DDP’s hand signal. You’ve always kept it moving and stayed determined not to let up on that movement. It’s the PURPOSE that was wrong this entire time.
It’s never been about having to prove anything to anybody.
Just keep running and what’s proven will come along with what you catch. This pace has been your pace because it’s never been about running away from something; but towards destiny at the very end.
What you’ve been after has had a head start on you since your first bump. The mental and physical abuse were the hurdles used to distract you. The steps never stopped. The pace never stopped.
Wrong body. Wrong time. Wrong look. Wrong friends. Wrong choices. Wrong gear. Wrong style. Wrong heat. Wrong promotion. Wrong gimmick.
The list of wrong can go on and on and I say with a huge smile -
You want me to slow down so bad. Pick your poison as to why; but there are elements out there that’d rather see me crash than soar.
So I’ll keep running. Faster and faster and faster and faster.
60 minutes complete.
And faster and faster and faster and faster. Even when they grant me permission to stop. Because there is no stop until I’m right at the heels of opportunity; legs sore and body battered. I follow that mad dash with a dive and tackle it to the ground. Make it mine. Make it memorable.
I want to make it question how it ever thought it could get away from me in the first place. I’ll give it time to think on it.
In that time, opportunity will realize how foolish it was to even try.
Nobody may ever see me as an Ironman Match style wrestler, but it never stops me from doing 60 minutes anyway. Ever. Because one day, it’ll be my day to prove another naysayer different.
Until then; I’m coming for you destiny. Fast as I can and growing faster by the day.
You better lace em’ up cause I’m right behind you.
Faster and faster and faster and faster and faster and faster…
Even on my back; I’m never laying down. Thanks Andrew Everett for the shades “rental” :p
I wish!! Don’t nobody need no 3 dimensions!