You really didn't think I wouldn't know you were going back did you?

(Fuck! This was the first interaction I had had with my voice since I originally thought I was giving up wrestling. It sent shivers down my spine. I had been hearing the voice for too long now, and after it left for moments at I time, I still knew its raspy tone. I couldn't even imagine what it wanted me to do next. To be honest, I didn't want to.)

I knew you'd know. What took you so long to come back? I figured you would be tormenting me long before this.

(I always tried to play off my fear. But somehow I knew that the voice could tell I was scared. It lived inside my head. It knew my fears, and it constantly used them to its advantage. Frankly, it always was a step ahead of me. I couldn't think without it playing off my thoughts.)

It was only a matter of time. I knew you would be back. You can't handle life without some sort of career involved with wrestling. You are too weak to stay away.

Fuck you! You don't know fuckin shit about me.

(But it was right. Absolutely correct. The voice had hit the nail directly on the head, and I knew that. I couldn't stay away from this filthy game. It had been a large part of my life for so long, I couldn't stand the change when I left. I needed the fans, just like they all needed me. My cocky exterior only hides this fear I hold inside me. I want to be away from all of this but it won't happen. I'm just going to accept it and hopefully live on. I don't know how much more I can take.)

How are you going to come in? With a bang I'm sure. Sometimes those petty entrances are overrated. Why not run someone over. Hell of a way to come in.

(I prayed it would stop. That I would wake up in the cold sweat, and I know that I was going to be fine. But I didnt wake up when talking to this fucking voice. I wasn't allowed to. I was to stay in my unconscious state until the voice was done its conversation with me. I understood this now and accepted. I had to, I couldn't do anything else about it.)

What did I do to deserve this? Deserve You? I can't do much more. I can't look at myself without being disgraced. Can't you be finished with me? Or will I have to end you along with my breathing? I don't understand anymore. It's all too confusing.

(I meant it too. I could just feel being overpowered. I wrestle for a living. I can take the physical and emotional pain. It was draining, but I still felt good after a long night in the ring. This was different. The voice left me too drained. As though I couldn't do anythign abut it. I really couldn't It just seemed so.. draining.)

At that Slash releases all tenseness in his muscles and falls in to a deep sleep. But a look of fear and dread is still displayed on his face.

It wasn't fair. All I wanted to do was sleep most nights, and be able to wake up knowing that I wouldn't have the dark rings under my eyes from another night of nightmares and unconscious conversations. It was rather depressing to be honest. Another night wasted with a nightmare. I think that is what you could call it, because the voice sent shivers up my spine. I wanted to be normal. Be like everyone else. Just to simply be someone who wasn't living with a fucking mental disease. I want more than anything to be free. Free of any sort of problems with myself. I don't know when the voice came to my mind, but I figured it was the part of me I tried to hide. The part I wouldn't let out. I am a schitzophrenic. Atleast that is what Dr. Roddick figured. But all he wanted was a paycheck. That's what pissed me off the most about him. He didn't care about his patients. He sat there with a mock concern on his face and in his tone. His mind wasn't with the patients. Fuck him. Fuck them all. I understand my aggression towards psychologists, but I realize they can't help a subject like me. Christ I can't even help myself. See I do not understand my problem, I just don't have a face for my mental assailant. I don't even have a reasonable explanation for how I think or act. My mind is just a jumble of facts and faces. I look at myself in the mirror but I don't see myself. I know why I have a cocky persona. I need to, it makes me feel better. I am the textbook definition of a bully. Fuck, self esteem? I don't know what it's like to like myself. Wait, I did. But that is too far gone that I don't know who the fuck I am everyday. Too many personalities. I feel like when I wake up I put on different masks. I am a different person, rotating personalities. It is such a disappointing life, but it's the hand I was dealt. I can't return this for anything. Who would want to be like me. Fuck, I can't even like myself, how can anyone else. I just hope you will understand me. I want you to realize what I am like, and the thoughts in my head and feelings. Im truly not a bad guy, or even an asshole. I'm a decent man with values and morals. Wait, I should say I was. Because to be honest, I do what I need to do in order to get sleep at night. If I keep the voice satisfied, I can be. SO I'm sorry if I ever hurt you, but it's how I sleep at night. I truly am a good guy...

See you soon bitches.

Promo over.

Are You Ready? For TOTAL IMPACT!!!