v. THE FLESH THAT HATES / COMCIALLY, COSMICALLY FUCKED
Oct 21, 2022 13:09:53 GMT
INFINITE PRO. and C like this
Post by hate on Oct 21, 2022 13:09:53 GMT
I remember my first bike.
She was in a sorry state when I got my hands on her, but so was I. She was a 1980 Shovelhead but you wouldn't have known it to look at her, considering she was a pile of rusty parts left in some widower's backyard and missing a few necessary bits. But I managed to get her up in one piece. She still looked like shit, weathered and beaten like nobody had given a shit about her for the better part of a decade. She was the perfect match for sixteen year old me with my chronic case of black eye, so many scars I hadn't learned not to be ashamed of yet on my jaws that when my chin hairs started coming in I never even bothered to learn how to shave. Nobody had really given a shit about me for about a decade either, not in any way that was genuine - so a perfect match we made.
That motorcycle was everything to me, but it wasn't just her though, Ii was having a bike at all . It was the idea that I could just go anywhere from that point on. Do anything. As long as I had gas in the tank I could just drive and drive until I ran out of road. It was maybe my first big slice of REAL freedom - the kind where I had a choice in the matter. The kind that was about more than just being hungry and desperate, waiting for the wrong guy to turn the corner on me and decide it just wasn't my night. It was the luxury of being alone and just being able to be me without being afraid - because I don't care how much of a badass you think you are, if you've EVER been a kid on the streets by yourself? You've been afraid.
From the moment I took my first ride on that bike , nobody ever ruled over me. It was the first of two times in my life I've been born again.
Just like Chicago burned down and then built itself back up from the ashes, having that bike burned me down to my bones and then I stitched myself a brand new suit of skin. It gave me control of myself, control of my own destiny. I wasn't just stuck anymore - I was wherever and whoever I wanted to be. I was always fighting but now I got to pick the where and the when, it wasn't up to the invisible hand of destiny anymore. And when I started picking my own bouts and I really sank into that blood - I was reborn one more time. I didn't just like it, I realized then and there that I wasn't complete without pain Causing it or feeling, it didn't matter. it just had to be at least one. Maybe I wasn't doing drive-bys with a boomstick back then, but I was definitely a fucking road warrior. And as time marched on, I didn't care when I got up to my knees in the filth and the gore. I didn't care when it started to spook all the supposed hard-asses around me, the ones that wanted to call me brother and friend.
I was fighting for my life way before it became my job to do it for fame, or money. And that's not something I can say for either of you.
If it seems like I think this shit is pedestrian it's because... I kind of do. How else am I supposed to react? MYOJIN is the Champion, the Big C - a title I have the opportunity to take from them, and what's the most horrible thing they've ever put themselves through? Some glue and glass, and a match with Rob Zombie drawn from memory. To a guy that's been shot, stabbed and otherwise engaged in dynamic visceral bouts for the purpose of bare minimum survival since he was a teenager... I'm sorry man, but that shit just doesn't stack up. There's a shadow moving OVER HEAVEN Myojin - and you aren't ready. Nothing on heaven or earth could MAKE you ready. You're the Starkid? I'm the entity from the blackness, I'm the void that's come to swallow you whole. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for the shit that I went through more than a decade ago - so what goddamn hope do you have now to, after more than ten years of weathering and cauterizing , somehow top me from mowing you like you're my fucking lawn?
There isn't any hope.
And poor HANZO AGUILAR is in the middle of stretching his wings and seeing how high he can fly, but he's forgotten the most important rule of aviation: what comes up must also come down. But there's no runway for a nice planned landing - nope. I'm gonna clip his wings mid flight and watch him fucking PLUMMET a thousand feet to the ground below. I don't need to leave the ground to do it, I'll stretch myself as much as it fucking takes and I won't fucking break. As much as I've always wanted to be just a man, jus a normal regular everyday asshole like everyone else I've been something MORE and something WORSE from the first time I ever had blood on my knuckles and in my mouth. I'm not... understandable or containable. There's nothing here that can be studied or planned for. The pain doesn't stop me, and my limits? When I'm out there for a fight they cease to fucking exist. I'm the Enmity, I'm just flesh that hates. One day a long time ago I had to burn out to feel alive for the very first time, and now? You're in my way, and out of time.
When I clean your clocks I'm not gonna use soap, I'm not even gonna use bleach. I'm gonna BURN YOU DOWN TO THE BONES, CRACK THEM OPEN AND MAKE ANGELS IN THE MARROW.
She was in a sorry state when I got my hands on her, but so was I. She was a 1980 Shovelhead but you wouldn't have known it to look at her, considering she was a pile of rusty parts left in some widower's backyard and missing a few necessary bits. But I managed to get her up in one piece. She still looked like shit, weathered and beaten like nobody had given a shit about her for the better part of a decade. She was the perfect match for sixteen year old me with my chronic case of black eye, so many scars I hadn't learned not to be ashamed of yet on my jaws that when my chin hairs started coming in I never even bothered to learn how to shave. Nobody had really given a shit about me for about a decade either, not in any way that was genuine - so a perfect match we made.
That motorcycle was everything to me, but it wasn't just her though, Ii was having a bike at all . It was the idea that I could just go anywhere from that point on. Do anything. As long as I had gas in the tank I could just drive and drive until I ran out of road. It was maybe my first big slice of REAL freedom - the kind where I had a choice in the matter. The kind that was about more than just being hungry and desperate, waiting for the wrong guy to turn the corner on me and decide it just wasn't my night. It was the luxury of being alone and just being able to be me without being afraid - because I don't care how much of a badass you think you are, if you've EVER been a kid on the streets by yourself? You've been afraid.
From the moment I took my first ride on that bike , nobody ever ruled over me. It was the first of two times in my life I've been born again.
Just like Chicago burned down and then built itself back up from the ashes, having that bike burned me down to my bones and then I stitched myself a brand new suit of skin. It gave me control of myself, control of my own destiny. I wasn't just stuck anymore - I was wherever and whoever I wanted to be. I was always fighting but now I got to pick the where and the when, it wasn't up to the invisible hand of destiny anymore. And when I started picking my own bouts and I really sank into that blood - I was reborn one more time. I didn't just like it, I realized then and there that I wasn't complete without pain Causing it or feeling, it didn't matter. it just had to be at least one. Maybe I wasn't doing drive-bys with a boomstick back then, but I was definitely a fucking road warrior. And as time marched on, I didn't care when I got up to my knees in the filth and the gore. I didn't care when it started to spook all the supposed hard-asses around me, the ones that wanted to call me brother and friend.
I was fighting for my life way before it became my job to do it for fame, or money. And that's not something I can say for either of you.
If it seems like I think this shit is pedestrian it's because... I kind of do. How else am I supposed to react? MYOJIN is the Champion, the Big C - a title I have the opportunity to take from them, and what's the most horrible thing they've ever put themselves through? Some glue and glass, and a match with Rob Zombie drawn from memory. To a guy that's been shot, stabbed and otherwise engaged in dynamic visceral bouts for the purpose of bare minimum survival since he was a teenager... I'm sorry man, but that shit just doesn't stack up. There's a shadow moving OVER HEAVEN Myojin - and you aren't ready. Nothing on heaven or earth could MAKE you ready. You're the Starkid? I'm the entity from the blackness, I'm the void that's come to swallow you whole. Nothing in your life could have prepared you for the shit that I went through more than a decade ago - so what goddamn hope do you have now to, after more than ten years of weathering and cauterizing , somehow top me from mowing you like you're my fucking lawn?
There isn't any hope.
And poor HANZO AGUILAR is in the middle of stretching his wings and seeing how high he can fly, but he's forgotten the most important rule of aviation: what comes up must also come down. But there's no runway for a nice planned landing - nope. I'm gonna clip his wings mid flight and watch him fucking PLUMMET a thousand feet to the ground below. I don't need to leave the ground to do it, I'll stretch myself as much as it fucking takes and I won't fucking break. As much as I've always wanted to be just a man, jus a normal regular everyday asshole like everyone else I've been something MORE and something WORSE from the first time I ever had blood on my knuckles and in my mouth. I'm not... understandable or containable. There's nothing here that can be studied or planned for. The pain doesn't stop me, and my limits? When I'm out there for a fight they cease to fucking exist. I'm the Enmity, I'm just flesh that hates. One day a long time ago I had to burn out to feel alive for the very first time, and now? You're in my way, and out of time.
When I clean your clocks I'm not gonna use soap, I'm not even gonna use bleach. I'm gonna BURN YOU DOWN TO THE BONES, CRACK THEM OPEN AND MAKE ANGELS IN THE MARROW.
