Head on to Heartache (Let Them Rot)

[Kevin Hardaway]

Sitting in a hotel room by yourself can be pretty grim sometimes. All alone, with no friends, with no family, with no type of company to keep you occupied with the exception of the TV blaring and a possible laptop with you. Hotels always have the "Free Internet Access" even though its a piece of shit mostly. Oh well, for what you can get for staying at a nice hotel room. The sound of thunder can be heard from a distance as rain starts to speck the windows. A storm is coming apparently, even though I haven't seen what the weather is going to be like for god knows how many days, barely watch The Weather Channel these days. I sit on the king sized bed, flipping through the TV stations to see what's on. Nothing to the matter. Few Austrailan shows but nothing that I know of, so I just turn on some random station and get up, looking outside the window to see people running for their lives from the now immiment downpour. Thunder can be heard, but barely. Surprised it's raining during this time of year. While the east coast and my hometown of Baltimore is getting record setting heat, we're stuck in 40 degree weather. It never hurts though when you've been in heat all month long, so it doesn't hurt. I look outside now to see a few couples running inside for cover and the thought strikes me like a ton of bricks. The words she said, the things she said. After Wednesday, I came back home immediately to get my things ready for the Tribulation PPV and yet...there she still was. Standing there, trying to brainwash my parents it seemed. But away from them, she was a different person. She wasn't the Angie I knew and loved. She changed and I had no idea why. I was called "stubborn", and "immature". She told me that "she didn't care nor did she ever care for me". That was the fucking knife in the back for me. I just couldn't take it. You've all heard the rest in my introduction promo for Uncultured Youth though.

So now I sit, stand, and walk around empty in a hotel room. Lightning and thunder filling the room, the TV blaring and showing the "Welcome Home" video by Coheed and Cambria. That song speaks levels to me as of right now. God only knows what the hell he's talking about in the song, but by my perspective, it's about a cheating bitch, a liar, a backstabber, and as she liked to call it during our impending arguement the other night...a victim. A VICTIM OF WHAT? She brought this on her own self, not mine. The only thing that she is a victim of is the simple fact that she is nothing. Yet, in my eyes...she was my blood, she was my soul, she was the force that brought me to my feet to walk to that ring every night. Now...I just don't know. I look at the door and see the yellow-grey ish color staring back at me. God, I could go for a drink actually...just to ease the pain. Why in the hell am I thinking that though? I'm supposed to be straight-edge. I don't drink...but why the hell am I thinking of something like that? It's happened before. Where I just wanted to go out and drink myself to death. It's the only pity of being able not to drink, because then you have to go through the deadly road head on with your mind clear. At least with a few drinks in me, the road would seem less dangerous. I just don't know. Hell, should I just say "fuck it" and just get the hell out of here. I got Tribulation to face though. I got the Global Wrestling Classic to face through as well. I just don't know what the fuck to do anymore.

Somebody, someone that's out there....HELP ME...you're my only hope!