Post by chevalier on Dec 30, 2007 23:37:51 GMT -5
I glanced around the room of my small apartment. Such a place I had never seen in France, but I had become accustomed to sights like it in America. My current place of residence, New York City. Now don’t get me wrong, there are some sights in New York. But oh I miss Paris so. So much was different. I could smell the differences in the pollution in the air. I could also see such differences as I glanced around the apartment. From the blood spatters on the wall to the smoke stains on the ceiling, I had never seen anything like it. Now don’t get me wrong, Paris had its slums, that’s for sure. But it didn’t have anything like this. And from what I could tell, I was in one of the better parts of New York. I have seen slums, but this was a whole new world.
I grew up in the streets of Paris. I was not anywhere near the top of the food chain there. My mother had gotten into debt when I was young and she was forced to abandon me. I have never known my father. Though I saw the deepest and darkest parts of Paris when I was young, having to fend for myself. I also had the luxury of being able to indulge in some of the true things that make what is the real Paris. Going to sleep in a park only meters from the Eiffel Tower. Walking under L’Arc de Triomphe almost daily. Those are the things people should experience in Paris. And possibly more than anything else, getting the chance to eat on occasion at a nice local family owned restaurant. No, not a big establishment with expensive prices. That’s not what made a good restaurant. Something small and family owned, where you see the same people every time you go in. Not some big time company or corporation.
Yet, I’ve found in my time in America, that such a thing is a rare commodity here. No one stops and takes the time to get to know each other. Everyone is too caught up in blazing through life as quickly as possible. In Paris, you learned to slow down and enjoy the art around you. As a matter of fact, the only thing I’ve found in America that I liked is professional wrestling. But even that, I feel is corrupted in its own way. But...I intend to fix that. Since I’ve arrived here and witnessed the spectacle that is professional wrestling, I have vowed to make that my career. I spent my time learning the craft, keeping to myself somewhat. I usually didn’t used to speak up. I would simply listen. I would take in advice from those who were true masters of the craft I hope to improve at.
No longer will I do such. I have surpassed my teachers to a point that they can never imagine. As I sit here in this ramshackle apartment, staring at the blood splattered wall, I am making the decision right now. I will not let my position in EUW go to waste. I will not blow this. I will go in and work my ass off. And I will never keep anything to myself. All my problems with America and the people who live here will be voiced without me ever thinking of or caring what in the hell anyone thinks about it. Am I going to make some enemies? Without a doubt. Am I going to make some friends? I don’t know. But really, I don’t care. I am going to go in and prove to the roster of EUW, and to everyone in America, what a Frenchman can do. I’ve heard all the blunt jokes against the French. And I’d tell you some of the American jokes that we say, but I don’t think any of you could handle them.
The fact of the matter remains, Chevalier has arrived. And whether anyone likes it or not, you will all fall to the man who stands as Chevalier. L'échec n'est pas une option. Failure...is not an option.
I grew up in the streets of Paris. I was not anywhere near the top of the food chain there. My mother had gotten into debt when I was young and she was forced to abandon me. I have never known my father. Though I saw the deepest and darkest parts of Paris when I was young, having to fend for myself. I also had the luxury of being able to indulge in some of the true things that make what is the real Paris. Going to sleep in a park only meters from the Eiffel Tower. Walking under L’Arc de Triomphe almost daily. Those are the things people should experience in Paris. And possibly more than anything else, getting the chance to eat on occasion at a nice local family owned restaurant. No, not a big establishment with expensive prices. That’s not what made a good restaurant. Something small and family owned, where you see the same people every time you go in. Not some big time company or corporation.
Yet, I’ve found in my time in America, that such a thing is a rare commodity here. No one stops and takes the time to get to know each other. Everyone is too caught up in blazing through life as quickly as possible. In Paris, you learned to slow down and enjoy the art around you. As a matter of fact, the only thing I’ve found in America that I liked is professional wrestling. But even that, I feel is corrupted in its own way. But...I intend to fix that. Since I’ve arrived here and witnessed the spectacle that is professional wrestling, I have vowed to make that my career. I spent my time learning the craft, keeping to myself somewhat. I usually didn’t used to speak up. I would simply listen. I would take in advice from those who were true masters of the craft I hope to improve at.
No longer will I do such. I have surpassed my teachers to a point that they can never imagine. As I sit here in this ramshackle apartment, staring at the blood splattered wall, I am making the decision right now. I will not let my position in EUW go to waste. I will not blow this. I will go in and work my ass off. And I will never keep anything to myself. All my problems with America and the people who live here will be voiced without me ever thinking of or caring what in the hell anyone thinks about it. Am I going to make some enemies? Without a doubt. Am I going to make some friends? I don’t know. But really, I don’t care. I am going to go in and prove to the roster of EUW, and to everyone in America, what a Frenchman can do. I’ve heard all the blunt jokes against the French. And I’d tell you some of the American jokes that we say, but I don’t think any of you could handle them.
The fact of the matter remains, Chevalier has arrived. And whether anyone likes it or not, you will all fall to the man who stands as Chevalier. L'échec n'est pas une option. Failure...is not an option.