Post by Deleted on Jun 25, 2016 3:21:04 GMT
YouTube posting (publicly listed)
"Funny, funny Valentine."
Obvious iPhone video but Lex Collins is visible enough, sitting on the floor with his back against a cinderblock wall. There's tape residue on the backs of his hands, dried blood on his knuckles that flakes off when he rubs his hand under his nose, settling on his white tee like rusty snow.
"You," he pauses, chuckling softly as he points a finger, "bet you're sittin' back all smug, thinkin' you got this fight in the bag 'cause you pulled that tick-a-motherfuckin'-box Tyler Durden 'we are the all-singin', all-dancin' crap of the world' horseshit – yeah, 'cause regurgitatin' Palahniuk's never gonna go outta style, is it? Nah. Tell me how you got this intimate knowledge of violence, of pain an' fear an' twist all the words in the English language to suit your motif, guy. Whatever floats that sinkin' ship, right? 'Cept you forgot the most important part of that nihilistic, solipsistic mantra. Yeah, you did. So, hey... it's good 'cause I got you, man. I'ma play wingman here 'cause I'm just that kinda guy."
He leans back, the top half of his face in shadow now, except for his mouth and that's sporting a crooked smirk that's there and gone in a flash.
"Where I'm right now doesn't matter in the grand scheme, but I'll tell ya. Just wrestled a shit match. Close one, y'know? One of those ones where time seems to stop an' now that you're lookin' back it's all these moments where you shoulda, where you coulda, where you almost had 'im an' that moment just... it just wasn't there. So hey, you wanna talk 'bout pain, right? You wanna talk 'bout shit you don't... shit you... shit you had no goddamn right to pry into like it's nothin'. An' hey. That's... y'know, that's on you but right now I'm sittin' here thinkin' how much this business is like a game of Guess Who. You ever play that when you were a kid? Does the guy you're goin' against got any scars? Does he got any skeletons? Got any weaknesses? Jot 'em down. Flip a card. Elimination – here we go. Same shit. Different four walls an' you're not a beautiful or unique snowflake – 'member? We all got some story. We all got some screwy..."
He lifts his hand, waggling it beside his ear, "some kinda demon'at brought us into this. 'Cause nobody sane does this for long – it's a stopgap for them. Steppin' stone, y'know? So I tell you I spent 'bout twelve years gettin' hit... gettin' knocked down an' hidin' the bruises, learnin' how to walk without no hitches, learnin' how to pick fights on the playground – no mystery there, right?"
He lets his head fall back against the wall, crusted-up blood visible on his neck as his Adam's apple moves with a hard swallow.
"An' I get it, Valentine. You wanna play the fakeout. Wanna get all up in my head an' fish around there, try an' find that button to make me tweak out 'cept it ain't gonna go like that 'cause I got nothin' to hide. You don't know the first friggin' thing 'bout real pain – this shit you do, this... this contrived-as-fuck little soliloquy? Yeah, might work in them other places, 'gainst scrubs but can't kill what's already dead. It's been a year. Stopped breathin' underwater. Life flashed 'fore my eyes... all that clichéd shit an' I was ready... oh God, I was so damned ready, man... you don't even know. You don't know a damn thing 'bout pain an' sufferin', Valentine. Don't know nothin' 'bout chaos an' bein' FEARLESS."
Lex's soft-spoken voice comes out strained. "My story... you didn't even skim the first page. Didn't... hell, an' I should be mad. I should rightfully be 'cause I've had this same level of underwear-on-head dumbfuckery tossed at me for years but right now I'd rather focus on that simple shit. Like gettin' up. Like headin' to the airport so I can see my wife. Like... just draggin' in another breath an' celebratin' a stolen moment, singin' this RIGHTEOUS survival song, y'know? 'Cause I clawed my way outta that pit – stole victory from the jaws of death. That's... that's my story an' you couldn't write somethin' that honest even if you wrung every drop of my blood out an' used it for ink."
He reaches up, scrubbing his hand over his mouth until his lips look almost raw before muttering, "fuck it... 'm done."
Fade to static.
