Dawn. The morning sun reaches down and greets me. For most, they lay in their beds and dream. Encased in sleep they dream of better things. Wishful thoughts of wonder fill their minds and they are free. I'm not asleep. I haven't slept for days and my dreams don't resolute with happiness when I do. I am cursed with a mind full of poison and what do I do? I cure my poison with poison. That makes a lot of sense....that's like putting out a fire with fire. It's what I do though. It doesn't make me weak or strong. It just is what it is. Nothing more...nothing less. The suns rays shine down and engulf the sky slowly. The radiance is slight but broadens and travels ever so slowly. It permeates the sky and expands all over the horizon. The day is quickly approaching and the promise of uncertainty hangs adrift in the air like a thick smog. It infects my breathing space and tries to suffocate me. I won't let it. No. It can't bring me down. Not now. Not ever.


I close my eyes for a moment as I lay here. In this hotel. Alone. I drove all night and arrived in Texas just a few hours ago. Then I got a room and ingested copious amounts of drugs. It's what I do. I'm Jeff Hardy. If you wanted the thoughts of a straight edge man....you've come to the wrong place. Perhaps you should check out JP Corino. You better be packing heat though. You may wanna shoot yourself in the skull after hearing him speak. He drones on and on with nothing to say. It's infuriating. It's annoying. I can't wait till I don't have to hear it anymore. I can't wait till I can walk away and never have to force myself through another one of that man's promos again. He leads an awful boring and sad life. To wake up and look in the mirror and see I had become JP Corino would be fundamentally the worst fate known to mankind. A fate worse that being eaten alive by zombies or drowning in a pit of killer bees or losing a match to Cyren. It must be downright fucking exhausting being JP Corino all day. Constantly screaming for attention from the world while suffocating in naivety. How can someone who claims to be straightedge believe the things he believes? It doesn't make sense. He's deluded and the journey of his ego trip has hit a fork and now his head is exactly perpendicular with his own asshole. A few more inches and he'll take the plunge. How far can JP Corino travel up his own asshole before he realizes he's full of shit? Perhaps there should be a poll.


Tonight I'll be climbing into the ring with JP Corino. It'll just be me and him. I have to pass a drug test and obey the rules and JP Corino gets to do whatever he likes. It's fine. The odds usually fall in that order for me. I wouldn't be existing in the real world if they didn't. It makes it all so much sweeter when I claw my way to the top. That's what I do y'know. I fight my way to the top with everything I have in my power. Tooth and nail. I don't stop. I keep going when most men would fall flat on their asses and toss up the white flag. I push forward and keep going till I have nothing left to use and I literally can't do it any further. Until my body just gives out. It's really fucking nuts when you think about it. Who else does that week after week? Who pushes themselves that fucking hard? I'm sure JP Corino believes he does. I'm sure standing in front of a camera and verbally jerking off is really hard. I'm sure having everything put down in your favor and all the rules pinned on me puts a real strain on JP Corino. He says he's walking out with my title. He says he's gonna take this belt. He's going to be king of the XWF too. There's more of that deluded self confidence. More crap tumbling down. It's so abundant I'm not sure if I'm hearing words spew from his mouth or if those words are coming directly from his asshole. They must be coming from his asshole. That is where crap usually tumbles from. He just must be really good at throwing the voice from his asshole and having people perceive it as words coming from his mouth. I wonder what his real voice sounds like? The one that comes from his actual mouth and not from his asshole. Have we ever actually even heard it?


The alarm on my bedside table sounds. It's time to arise. Rising from the bed with no sleep to be accounted for. So what. Sleep is for the weak. I'll be fine. Besides it's time to ingest what was in those vials. I pull out the bag that contains them and swallow each one down in a rapid fire succession. There are approximately five vials. I ingest all five in less than a minute. When it's over I stand up and walk towards the bathroom. I don't feel any different. Once I gaze into the mirror, I see I don't look any different either. Why would I look different though? I keep my eyes on the mirror as I walk closer to it. Then out of nowhere my hands from within my mirror image stretch out. They reach out and grasp my shoulders. My reflection is attempting to draw me into the mirror! What the fuck?!?! Naturally I fight back. My reflection is pretty strong as it yanks me forward. I spring my hands forward and grasp the sides of the wall as my reflection tugs and pulls at me. My feet dig into the bathroom floor and skid along as I try to resist. Finally I do the last thing I can think of....I headbutt the mirror. The mirror shatters. Yeah...I don't get it either. How was I almost being pulled into something I just shattered with my own head? Doesn't make sense right? I stop trying to make sense of it all when I realize exactly what I'm trying to make sense out of. I look in the splintered and half shattered mirror and see blood trickling from my head. That when the ground comes up to greet me. Or another way of putting it is....I pass the fuck out.


When my eyes open, I am no longer in my hotel bathroom. I am laying on a battlefield that is strewn with bodies and covered in the putrid stench of death. I rise to my feet as a blood red sun basks me in it's apocalyptic warmth. I should feel devastated, frightened and tremble as I behold such torturous wonders that stretch out before me. I don't though. Instead I just walk forward and try not to step on any of the bodies. It's a hard task to do since there are so many. As I shuffle through the remains of the fallen, I start to see something familiar to them. Every single face is the same and every single face is mine. A battalion of dead Jeff Hardys. Millions of them just laying and rotting in the scorching red sun. Flies swarm and maggots fester. I push forward though and attempt to reach the end of the battle field. I want to get away from this place but there is no end. No end to this endless place of war. No end to the rows and piles of dead Jeff Hardys either. The further I walk the longer the journey seems but yet nothing changes. If I stayed in the same spot I would be basking in the same sights I'm seeing as I purge forward.


Then all at once a change occurs. The sun begins to burn brighter or at least it seems that way. I feel my skin begin to get hotter and I look around as the battle field begins to burn. I look on as the rows of Jeff Hardys catch on fire. Their dead eyes gaze upon me as their expression almost look fearful. Yet I am not afraid. I look at my own arms and hands as I raise them up and see I am burning as well. The flame engulfs my body and swallows me whole. There is nothing I can do to stop it. The fire become one with my very being and ingests me. I don't scream as I burn. I don't weep or feel fear. Sorrow doesn't cover me. I just accept what's happening. There's nothing more that I can do.


Somewhere between the burning and the realm of peace I drift into a new understanding as things shift into focus. I don't so much wake up, as I feel like I phase back into reality. I'm not on fire but I'm also not in a hotel bathroom. I'm in my locker room and I have no clue how I got here. I don't even know if this "here" is real and that's a pretty fucked up stance to have. I look around and everything seems to be as real as it should, although that really doesn't give me much confidence since my mind loves to play tricks on me. Reality can only be as real as you deem it to be...but was I really in the real reality or was this just another madcap fantasy? A realm presented to test my mind perhaps? I am certain things would eventually become clear to me...one way or another. They always do. It is a comforting factor to know, no matter how deep I travel into insanity, the road always pops me up where I need to be. Yet still there remains a curious question that I may never know the true answer to. Just what the fuck was in those vials?