It’s been a long road till I got where I am now. It’s been a road paved with the dark bricks of sorrow, sting and bloodshed, and a bit of pink pleasury bricks also, one must be honest in one’s finest hour, and it’s been a very, very, very lengthy long lasting road, and this doesn’t mean it’s been such a horrific walk as you might suppose, although it hasn’t been an easy stroll, not at all, and now, now here I stand, face to face with you all and all of the rest. Yes. Now.
It wasn’t a picnic, it wasn’t a nightmare, and now, I’m here, at the end of a boulevardy journey, at the beginning of a highway to perpetuity, to eternity. I almost can’t believe the past has lead me to where I stand, on the verge of all these beautiful penalties that are about to come true and that I shall endeavour to put forth; the truth remaining, they will and must come to be, I shit you not.
Now, only the Goddess of Hades Herself could stop me from fulfilling this fate I foresee for you all and modestly me. And though I fear nothing but the Goddess's sweet embrace and though I’m primed for every single and unsusceptible twisted card anyone else could ever lay down on my ethereal lap, the Goddess of death Herself I do fear, and nothing else. And I shit you not. This, this is what I whisper about. Readiness, Eternity and Death.
Yeah, I know, one shouldn’t sing one’s own praises on such trivial issues, instead one should give a compassionate contemplation or two for all those other comrades, cohorts, idiots, friends, men, women and so on who never made it clean as far as one has; who lost their ways somewhere down the track; but today I just don’t give a fuck.
Today, as Beowulf I boast and I don’t give a fuck. Today and the day after today and maybe even the next. And I have every god given right to boast in such a brilliant manner, for it is only up to me and the Goddess of gods alone to know how hard it was to get where I stand tonight, in this momentous junction of Time, telling you all how exuberantly happy it feels to criss-cross destiny and hold the future of Humanity in the palm of one’s hand. Yes, the destiny of you all I hold in the palm of my hand.
I’m here, alive, kicking, menacing and dictating what is to be, what was and what will become, with the right stuff up my spiritual wallet, with your faint criticism up my arse, with the absolute certainty that I rule above you all and that’s what matters, when those of you who are just becometh judicious and I even the more…
And what’s other, I think I deserve to be here, I’m sure I got every right to stand where I stand and even if shouldn’t the truth is I wanted it, I fought for it, I craved for it, I have hold my nerve, against the odds, against Time, against Family, Friends and Foes and now here I stand. Yes, now!
Hell of bells and bells of hell, I even clashed myself to be where I am today. If there was ever a man who was worthy of being where I am, then, I’m that man. I shit you not. I’m the man of the hour, I’m the man you’ve heard about and never thought you’d essentially read. Indeed, I’m the Man.
All avenues wide unwrapped, this is just where I wanted to be and I shall bother you modestly more; my path to magnificence undeniably a theme of perseverance, will power, justice and admiration; a cosmos complete with a totality of thought I will bother you less than a fleck of dirt in this pursuit of mine for Eternal appreciation and undying splendour, for space is for the mind of Man the peaceful portrait I hereby paint.
In the end of the ending, the beginning of self-resilience, I shit you not, your children will tell the tale of who I was and still am and all of you will be long gone decease by then and me, me and only me alone, will take of thee, of thy fading memories the worthy loving care they wrongly deserve.
Undeniably, I’m a song to be sung by poets, a poem to be written by wiz computer con actors, a sonnet to be bestowed on false friends and factual foes instantly fouled together! Yes, I’m an Odyssey even Ulysses himself dare not shun! Thost thou understand what I have just said? Thost thou fear pernicious foul play in this poetry filled with perfection fabulous?
Oh infidels, thost thou doubt me? How dare thee?
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The Man. That’s what I’m talking about. Yes. I’m here. Yes I’m the best. Yes I’m the Man. And yes, what is better, what is the best in this endless spherical activity for you and me only is… The best, I the Best, the best am yet to be…
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