"To define, is to limit."
Saturday... My Ambition will no longer guide my hand, it will walk beside me. Through each of the nine circles of the Inferno that is my soul, like a proverbial Virgil to my Dante. Jakob and I in PWF's first ladder match, our first ladder match. Hauntingly appropriate for this occasion friend.
Maybe it wasn't you who said my title victory was a fluke. Perhaps the self-doubt I wallow in has learned to project it's voice outside of my head. Even now it echoes. Saturday you will inherit my every vice, I put the yoke around your neck. You will embody every one of my nine sins. You will be the conduit of my doubt, to impede my climb up the ladder from this bleak inferno of disbelief into the Purgatory of Hope.
We both languish in what we believe to be a place we can rise out of. Too long has the smoke from these flames of anger brought blinding and stinging tears to my eyes. Each rung of that ladder represents absolution. The top of that ladder rises from limbo into a Paradise only one of us can claim.
That championship, MY FINAL HEAVEN. My ONLY Paradiso. Hammermeier, sometimes... it truly is hell getting to Heaven.