Last night was the beginning of death. The waning of LIGHT from a stony surface. A shadow pulling the covers over the dreams of a new moon. Call it a banal and predictable cycle of hope and upheaval if you will, but there’s always more to it than our passing eyes consider. The glow that guides. The timeless light that protects through the drench of nightfall. It burned away into the darkness over Ye’ Ole’ Commune on May 1st, and the sight was something curious, if not downright profound.

Profound...



...yeah. That’s an understatement.

Mayday.

An XWF Shove It, the likes of which not seen since the “Great American”, or the one down “Where The Sun Don’t Shine”. My moon-shoot of solidarity turned bedlam, and mania, with consequences that eclipsed them all. Revolutions born and dying. Rivalries fomenting and fizzling. The landscape of the XWF shifting… forever. And most notably, me standing in this godforsaken landfill of a yard spearing trash under the whip of the afternoon sun.

I started off this morning as I did each, out of bed early. Sprung and conscious. Early enough to get ahead of the daylight. A programmed and meticulous dive into logistics and planning of the commune. A meditative-like inventory of the pantry. A thoughtful and smooth assigning of duties and roles for the residents. A prompt correspondence through a bevy of official voicemails, texts, and emails. And a quiet, glancing question into the mirror behind a cup of coffee.

Well... Perhaps I was a bit more autopilot this morning than usual, but I’d have it no other way.

Where no one would bat an eye at the host of an event such as XWF Mayday being pampered into the post-acclaim and celebration of a job ”Well done!”, offering a thanksgiving of jubilation and extended rest - I could bask in nothing. There’s always work to be done. I was up into the wee hours of the lightless eve. Moving, as I am now, almost without a beating heart. Working up as calm a presence as capable while shifting through the chaos. Meeting with, and thanking various XWF talent in the mansion. Directing traffic to have the ring disassembled and moved off of the property.

Luckily, with an unsolicited helping hand from the Governor of Florida, the National Guard was taking care of my mass-transient issue. The million-or-so new-hearted hopefuls gathered to be a part of history in the midst of their retread of a cultural renaissance.

A renaissance that would wax on, and wain off.

Just like the light of the moon.

We’ve all seen this before.

Especially as I stand here now, sleepless and blistered by the sun. Worn and disillusioned. Stuffing an endless heap of garbage into an overencumbered bag. A bag made, consequently out of recycled garbage. Who was I kidding anyway? Why did I think hosting Mayday was a good idea? It’s left me here alone. No revolutionaries. No reinvigoration of the heart. Just the burnt dreams of Dolly Waters picking up the trash that I created.

Looking back two-hundred yards I saw Corey shifting out of the mansion doors. Dark shades on his eyes, and a twitchy way about him. Obviously, given the time of day, he got some decent sleep. Lucky him. And without even so much as a wave, he was off with his lover.

Heh.

Fuck it, right?

I mean he and Thad were the reasons I decided to put on that “HELLuva” show last night. To show them that I did still care, and took their work in the XWF seriously. Remind them that I supported their dreams. I knew those dreams as well as anyone. Because my heartbeat too, sounds like a bell striking at ringside. I wanted to show them both that I stood with them in solidarity with their fight even though I was no longer a part of it. Through the unspoken sorrows of their defeats, and the charmingly coy smiles of their victories. Those are my brothers. Without them I’d be nothing. Dead. A forgotten and unfullied piece to this puzzle of existence.

And yet, with such regards, here I am alone like a cheap prop. The New Moon bore a good gesture and meaning in my heart. But the Waning Gibbous sliced thin and deep just to the edge of the surface. Reminding me of the need to discard the baggage.

I slung the bag of trash to the ground and began marching back toward the mansion. I had an idea and one that was only further solidified by the sudden rustle of thick Floridian air.



A rocket slashing through the atmosphere from a not-so-far Cap Canavrill. ITreminded me of Vinnie Lane’s words from last night. As I took a moment alone, sneaking a cigarette as I sometimes do, he stepped out next to me, pulling a hit from his vape.

“That was an interesting night.”

He said, facesticious, and looking away from me into the vacancy of the night sky,

I didn’t really respond, just a chuckling puff through my nose while exhaling my smoke. There was a moment of quiet before Lane started to dive into an unneeded compliment, but with my eyes also plastered into the cosmos I cut him off-

So y’all are really going up there?

He turned and smiled,

“How else are we going to top what happened here tonight?”

I watched the rocket pierce through the skies and rip higher into the heavens. On a collision course with its own cycle of birth, and death. And so mine was beginning as well… and c'est la vie.

In The MEANtime

XWF...

I'M BACK!!!

I would say it's been a while, but it really hasn't. Hell Dolly Waters has been plastered on yer' televisions in some form or fashion since I decided to roll in, and roll out back in December. You know? The time where Corey Smith and I thoroughly kicked the shit out of Raven and Centurion?

Look... I get it.

Maybe yer' ALL feeling a bit of Dolly-saturation as of late but it ain't my fault!

SWEAR!

It's like people know I'm money or something, and just can't help but have the cameras around me when filming vignettes. But I wonder why that is? I wonder why after a two-year hiatus I came back to the XWF and thoroughly filleted a couple of self-proclaimed Legends? I wonder why me, the little flakey cunt who couldn't, got her name plastered upon an all-time greatest list of this business? A list that I originally debuted on along with a bunch of other "Legends". When I've barely wrestled a year's worth of matches XWF! What does that make me?

Call any and all of the bullshit you wish, but I'm one of the best to ever do it here... and THAT'S how I'll be remembered when all is said and done. That's exactly why I'm back. To stand, or float out in zero gravity, with my brothers Corey and Thad and make Dolly Waters' mark on the XWF one that'll never be forgotten. For a girl who never even REALLY got her feet wet in this business, I made quite the waves, didn't I? That's how it's always been. I'm battled tested. This business is in my blood.

Leap Of Faith is the beginning of a new cycle of ass-kicking for Dolly Waters.

Dick Powers? Make no mistake about it...

I WANT Dick...

Hell...

I NEED Dick...

Wait. Going to have to say something different.

OH YEAH!

FUCK DICK!

Goddamnit.

There's really no good way of doing this.

I'm looking forward to beating Dick-

No. Fuck this. Cut the camera.

I'll see y'all on the moon.

Dick Powers is bitch!