Gaslight

If you want a fight, we don't need the fucking ring. Meet us in the parking lot next ReVival. Let's settle it there. Your words, Daniels. Your challenge. I've waited a year and a half for PRIME to put you in the ring with me, and I'm through waiting. Music to my ears. You want to try and pull a punk card, then spending the days after lying, shifting topics, doing everything you can to try and maintain some high ground? The Choice of the ‘New’ Generation is Timelord Horseshit.

Which is odd. I mean, you're cracking on my age? Isn't your point of origin, those multitudes making you up, don't they trump me by decades? Centuries? Eons? Then again...with your temper tantrums...

Or are you in your moody teenage phase? Paint your face in a frown and go on and on in some nihilistic dirge, trying to scrape together a coping mechanism because ‘I can't adapt and have been dead to rights in PRIME for too long given what I should be.’

Why do I target you? You talk your trash and then curl up all bitchmade after you've spent YEARS going on and on and on and on AND ON about how PRIME doesn't matter. That it's fake plastic bullshit made up of wax figures. Wrestling fly over country. This promotion started goddamn 21 years ago. I walked in the door in 05…me, Nova, Karina Wolfenden, Amy Campbell. It was us, and Hoyt, and Killean Sirrajin, and Vangelus Olsig…and more. So many more came after. We built PRIME into the greatest wrestling promotion of its era, and for the last two and a half years, that's been built upon. Not just the best of an era.

The GREATEST wrestling promotion EVER.

And my battles, my fights, my toils, they are foundational to this place. It and I are one. It matters to me. I am not who I am, as a person, as a man, without this place. You go pissing on this ground thinking yourself so superior, that whatever bullshit is out there in the landscape, where you come from, holds some greater tangibility. You did this unprompted, unsolicited. You roll your eyes and belittle this space, and then you expect anyone here to give a sliver of a fuck about your background? Your grounds? Has any of them made it two and a half years? We're supposed to give the faintest amount of a shit about your husband or the places lost to the ether, unable to even be tracked...why? Because you say?

Fuck you.

And fuck your gaslighting.

I rose to the top here and was fired. Ostracized. Excommunicated. Real shit. I had to fight to get back here. I needed everyone to sign off on me to walk back in and compete. That's the folly of your entire perspective; you think I've been handed this.

No. I earned this. I had to work harder. Be better. One mistake and I'm out. If I didn't bust my ass, if I didn't grit my teeth, I was done. What came of it? I built a Hall of Fame despite the apprehension. I lost and then earned the respect of my fans and peers to be worthy of the highest accolades.

That meant the world to me.

It will always mean the world to me.

You don't have to meet my standard, or be a hero, or win titles. You come out, you compete, that's enough. But you? No, you have spent more of your energy, your effort, your being, on shitting on everything this place is, discrediting it, all while doing the same garbage over and over, telling the world 'you tried'.

You NEVER tried. You GLEEFULLY made that clear from the moment you started. You shit on the very thing I am and are so daft, so ignorant, so fucking stupid, that you dare ask why. Try to couch it in jokes about sexual repression. A fight? You survived me in the winter of 2022. A draw. Your specialty. Doesn't matter though, right? Nothing matters to the great Anna Daniels.

When my elbows smash your teeth, tell Rob Williams it doesn't matter as he has to figure how to fly solo during the rest of the tag league.

Get all swagger and then start crying that I'm trying to silence you.

Speech is free. So are the consequences.

And for you, that's a very unfortunate thing.