Fight The Dawn
An Abstract Legacy

Archive: Oct 2017

The Contender

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I’m always at my best when I’m overlooked, when I’m the underdog. I am the unknown contender at heart and it is the essence of who I am. I’ve never been the most talented or one with an aura of charisma. There have always been hurdles and obstacles in my way, things to overcome. My path has always been enshrouded and I have used it to my advantage to strike from.

My memories are filled with the times I have been looked down on and disregarded. Since I was 9 years old I can remember not having the faith of those around me to succeed and succeed I did. That continued on through high school and into college where I entered into a boxing ring against an opponent who was in a weight class above mine. He was known and had the primo coach in his corner. I was a nobody, with a coach in my corner who was also looked down on and disregarded. I remember people telling me that they were scared for me because I obviously should not have been fighting this guy; they didn’t know my heart. I knocked his ass to the ground in the third round and won the fight.

That’s the way it’s always been in my life, at least for the times in which I truly excelled. When the pressure hits I come to life and lately that pressure has not been there. I’ve grown too comfortable in my cocoon of my acting environment. I have reached a place of some success and accomplishment, and moreover praise, and erected a throne out of it. I’ve sat on this high-ground too long. I’ve grown too relaxed. I’ve come to expect compliments and praise. I’ve envisioned myself too much in the limelight.

I must remember that after two years I truly have nothing to show. I’m still at the very beginning. I have many more miles to tread in this contending shade. One day, far in the future, I might peak out again to catch a glimpse of the sun, but then it will always be back to the cold dark road I travel. For in the shadow of defeat is where I truly shine.

Boyet Up

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The taste of salt entered my mouth as she began to speak, so familiar a taste in these past couple of days. I witnessed clearly her mouth moving to form the words that surely reached my ears but all I heard was my own growing smile inside my head. Outwardly my head was hung in shame, matched with an emotionless face, but inside I had climbed this bloody pile of dead bodies to ascend to my throne. Yes, I could feel the bitterness and defiance growing in my blood—giving vital warmth to these thoughts that began to form.

Her frail words broke against the vanguard of my attack as I effortlessly parried each counter word. Her wish to affect me was futile and each tactic she employed was dismantled with a growing ease. Worry caught in her throat, a rare display of fear from such a woman, as she turned for assistance. Her ever faithful subject came ambling forth covered with the armour of intuition and armed with the sword of rain, which brandished, wet the ground behind him with each forward slide of his gilded feet. Slack-jawed he spoke, “hush child the grave you dig yourself only grows deeper.”

Ah finally, the moment I had been longing for; the battle with the paramount prodigy. I did not think my smile could widen but I guess I even surprise myself sometimes. My eyes glistened with glee as fire ignited in my core, coursing forth through my arteries to set every nerve on edge. Yes, this grave you speak of shall be deep, very deep, but the deepest grave will still reach closer to heaven than any throne afforded to you in service of her.

Crying out we charged at one another. His steely blade of rain burning into steam against the fire of my breath. Battle was waged as we crossed through into all the world’s stages. Fire was met with ice, open expression with inward reflection, and boisterous reckoning with the soft whisper of death. And then it happened, the moment I had long prepared for. With his guard weakening I unleashed my secret attack: the Boyet. “Oh my little heart,” I declared in ridiculous fashion, and that was that.

My grave was dug and I went to lie in it. The faithful subject returned victorious to his full estate which was everything she promised. You have everything you ever wanted now and when your tears dig down to try and pierce this earth I will not feel them. My grave has been dug so deep; nothing can reach me now.

RICHARD NIXON OUT SON!