I'm making money.

My career is flourishing.

I'm taking on the best in the business.

Yet I'm numb.

A smile hardly escapes my lips.

Happiness isn't a feeling that I've felt in years.

I fight to feel.

I like to think that I do things at a level above the rest. As cliche as it sounds, that's how I think. If I don't think I'm above someone, you go in with doubt. It's how the human mind works. I never once doubted my ability to take people out. It's something I've always known I could accomplish.

I never thought about how it would feel to have the tides turned. Me being on the other end of a beating. I've been tossed around a bit and had my fair share of sucker punches delivered, but never once have I been beaten, destroyed, finished.

I've had time to think about my past and everything that's happen to me.

Being a "marked" man, the death of my wife and kids, my family disowning me.

It's all in the past.

It's time to move on to the here and now.

Easier said then done.

Sitting here babbeling about the past and what has happen isn't going to me anywhere. It isn't going to help me move on and focus on the future and present.

A problem easily corrected.

You're finished hearing about me.

My personal life, as of now, isn't any of your business.

It's come quite clear that none of you care about how I've come to be or why I am the way I am. All you care about is me putting my body to the test and hurting people.

Someone elses stories mean nothing if they aren't your own.

You people want a story of your own to tell. You want to see someone die, brain damaged, anything. Just so you can say you were there and saw it happen. Then give your account of how and what went down to cause this.

It'll give you atleast two weeks of conversation starter.

I sat here and confessed to things, told stories the best that I could.

None of you care though, you just want me to hurt people. I am the current Lust Champion. Which means I'm the most violent person in Sin Wrestling. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. That's how I've always been.

The only job I've ever failed at, was keeping my wife safe. She's dead because of me and now I have to live with that for the rest of my life. Violence may not be the best answer, but it's the only answer I know. It's too late to train me any different. I respond to violence with violence and I have full intentions on ending anybody that gets in my way.

I'm done playing games and enlightening everyone.

I'm here for me.

I've discarded four opponents in Sin so far, with ease no less. Yet here I am walking into Illusions against someone I've already toppled.

Flame.

My second match in Sin was against this gentlemen and two others. If I remember correctly, and I'm positive that I do. I beat him and two others out to win the championship I currently hold. I'm still trying to figure out why he is getting a rematch at my belt. He has no chance and everyone knows it.

He's a street preformer, shooting off his silly fireballs, pretending to be a... Goth? I think that's what they call them these days. It's a rather pathetic style of life. How he ever came to be the owner of the company is beyond me. It's obvious he's delusional and still thinks he's fifteen.

But here I am, forced into a match with this David Blaine in scary makeup.

It gives me a headache thinking about it.

I go from beating Billy Badson, to taking on Flame. It's a drastic drop in my opinion. You'd figure I'd be doing something a bit more exciting for the people atleast. Everyone knows how this one is going to turn out, but what can I do?

Take another check in the W column and move on I guess.

Everyone's looking for a story at Illusions.

The irony of it all is.

Stories are Illusions.

Everything you think is cool, original, different has probably been done before by millions of other people. There's, what?, twelve billion people on the planet earth, and you think you're that special? That original?

Give me a break.