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Date Posted: 15:21:33 01/06/02 Sun
Author: Drake Maxwell
Subject: Work, Play, Intentions


You know, winning from a perspective is like somewhat a dream. You live through it for about 15-20 minutes when in real time it is stretched out so far in distance that you find it heavenly. Dreaming from the moments of what your favorite job was going to be like or the perfect life you wanted for yourself. With dreams, there are also nightmares for which most of us hate so much in fact that they kinda protract the simple moments of relinquishing what you cherish most in life. Seriously nightmares and dreams are apart of the everyday human life. But in wrestling...they're something different.

Different how you ask? Well something is defined as in term by what man does, including his work, his play and his intentions.

His work is described as what he chooses for a job and how he professes that job to be. Rather it be good or bad or maybe he excels, it is his job and you have to understand within a job comes the obligatory moments of right and wrong no matter if you end up throwing yourself from atop a perch.

His play is described as what he finds for enjoyment, hurting people is for the satanic, the sadist just to things to despite, Drake does things in both of these ways for their pain and his enjoyment.

Intentions are just that, what a man thinks of the future. You look down into the moments you happen to find something for a cause. With Chris Cane, there is nothing but being a pauper to the sport. With Drake Maxwell, it is hurting people for the pure enjoyment of himself and to shock those in the audience and gaining more and more from his actions.

As the sand turns over another branch we find ourselves starring down the promise of going through the moments that most of us thought would never end, something called a career comes to mind. Everyone's still remains intact from whatever they pursue, but then when you get down towards the last moments of reality and inferiority then you find the points that define a career. In Chris Cane's case though you have no high point except a contract to the GWA, the rest is just scattered along the plains of his mind never given the ability to make sense or even play the things that most of are able to enjoy. He cannot feel these things simple enough as they might be, he never is able to hoist up that reminds him of beating somebody or coming close to beating somebody whichever one came first. He will never be able to have that right no longer will he be thought of by that distinction. If you had to write a book on Chris Cane, you would have to include the moments of losses and politics. After all this is the same man who can job to 50 people in one night, but should we be able to give him props for it? Maybe...

But can the same be said for Chris Cane, maybe not because within Chris Cane there is no career, it has been wiped from the history books and placed in folklore and tales whether or not he is actually real or not. We tried proving that with Tempest and he did nothing, we did with Thurston Marshall III and look what happened to him? Injured arm and he won't get his chance to face Jim Daher again. Rightfully Drake should be having the Falconer title shot since he did win it truthfully at End of Innocence, but we won't cry and whine when we've been invited to greener pastures. Cane probably hasn't even known what hardcore actually is, but like Missle in the Fans Wrestling Federation, there is a lot of history coming towards you when you attain victory with the Hardcore title. Starting with that Missle won the Main Event title or the old North American title which was Missle's cherished title until the World title and then you add the Tag Team titles to it and you have Grand Slam status only out of reach by virtue of International title gold. But Drake is no Missle and he knows that for a fact. Chris Cane is not anything that can be placed alongside history, but well at least he tried to make a name for himself.

The location of an interview or promotional video is important and many people inside of the business will tell you that. Inhabiting his abode inside of Dallas, Texas which is only a hour drive from the last FWF venue of Houston is Drake Maxwell standing on the balcony of the Marriott Hotel. The crisp cold air of a January morning is only enough to chill him as he tries to keep warm. A long sleeved Nirvana shirt encompasses his chest from the sweltering cold air, the blue Nautica jeans keep his legs at normal body temperature as he continues to strive in search of acceptance of the people. As he stands among his size ten and a half inch feet, he walks, runs, and jogs with a heavy epitome to follow. As the snow flurries eat at his face like sandpaper and razor blades, he looks down upon the city of Dallas with thoughtful intentions, he can only stand and wonder of what to do next on his journey to stardom.

________________________________________________________________________________________
Drake: Looking down upon the cities and then ciphering what is and what isn't noticeable about wrestling then you have to realize that within victory there are goals afterwards and questions given to you after those matches. The people are blood suckers, normality parasites whose benefits only come so far and so long from the ends of the valley. Their momentarily value of politics is fruitless and then when you get down to actual business you are thought of as a pauper- a fake, not really knowing the truth as it seems. During politics you have the good, the bad, and the ugly. The good is a victory on some non important issue, the bad is a loss on some issue and loss of public face. The ugly is Jeremy Riley the people who chop politics into smoke and mirrors. Chris Cane- a personal jobber.

He stays silent as the observations of the city below him are a constant reminder of what he has to face Tuesday and Wednesday night- an eyesore. As he looks from above, the silence is overbearing as he parts his pink lips once more, to the sound of chirping birds.

Drake: Knowing you Jeremy, there is not a moment inside of you where you like to defy the obvious and then tamper within it. If this were a Batman comic book, I'd be Batman and you'd be the joke simply because Riley, there is nothing about you that sparks interest from me other than comic relief. Nothing more than the simple intake of a laugh or something that I find pity in you and that's it Riley. Nothing more, nothing less than an absurd joke. I guess that is why you and Chris Cane share something in common. Cane is both an idiot and something of a moron to even tamper with that he cannot understand. You sit in silence enjoying the moments on your television while sitting on your ass, and you let everything waste. How pitiful.

Drake leans over the top of the edge and looks down below him and smirks to everything. The passing cars, the walking people who give no question to what is above them just that in front of them. Drake then takes a step onto the ledge and placing his other foot on the ledge, propelling himself to stand above everyone else.

Drake: If I fall, then it's over I cannot be resurrected, but we all can't be like Justin Sane can we?

Drake chuckles to himself as he drops down backwards and lands on the palette floor of the balcony. He turns and walks back inside to the warm arms of the hotel servants and tenants. The rain beings pouring outside, harder and harder with everyone becoming soaked by the rain. Drake can only give a smile towards those people as the scene fades.

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