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Unknown Arrival

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Thirteen days stood between the current date and BPZMania. Fans in each section of the arena were energised, with mexican waves, signs and chants producing an electrifying atmosphere. It almost seemed as if the day was too perfect. But, this positive buzz was soon halted. Replaced, by an eerie silence. Smoke rose from the stage and the titantron buffered and cut like the signal had been lost. Before, alas music came from the speakers, and a hooded figure walked out onto the stage.

Engulfed by the smoke, although unscathed, stood the figure of a seemingly new arrival to BPZ. Nothing had been said about anyone new being employed, and nothing had been said about anyone returning. The smoke cleared to a thin fog, revealing a man in a full suit, wearing a long jacket and hat. Head tilted slightly downward as if he was concealing his identity. Microphone in hand as well, which he slowly lifted to his lips.

Everlasting power, a signal. A signal that you are respected, you are doing something right. A signal that is earned, not bought or granted by an overseeing leader. You see, many people aspire to get to a level where everlasting power is bestowed in them, but rarely does anyone make it that far. They will get themselves excited and pumped up like they are at the start of a one-hundred meter race, getting comfortable in the starting blocks. But, nothing in life is a basic, easy, straightforward sprint. Especially when it revolves around something as key and important as power. The analogy I would instead use is a marathon. The task many strive towards is a marathon, whilst they treat it like a sprint. Using all their energy and exposing themselves in the process of trying their hearts out to try and complete what they will inevitably fail at doing. I say rarely, as only a few men that I know of have achieved this feat.

And ladies and gentlemen, you really must have done something amazing, spectacular, outstanding, because not only do you get to know about this man, but you get to see him right in front of your very eyes. You see, I am one of a minuscule group who know how it feels to have everlasting power inside of them. For me, it is engraved into my heart, my soul and my brain. It is its own person inside of me, helping me with every decision that I make. Impressive, isn't it. How getting up and actually doing something with the life you have been given can get you here. Its like, I have assembled my psychological stature on top of mount Kilimanjaro, and I am just looking down at all of you beneath me. That is how it feels. I am more of a person now, they say that we do not use our brain to its fullest extent. Apart from me, I use every single part of my brain. My cerebral cortex, cerebellum and medula all work constantly, twenty four hours a day and seven days a week. Purely because that is what you need to be great, you need to have that fire en-stowed inside of you. A burning light that is hard to see for others but easy for yourself. And once you do obtain these things, reflect, look in the mirror and think.

The figure lowers the microphone before turning around, as he turns the fog lifts and slowly disintegrates into nothing. The fans in the arena are so astonished by this that they do not even realise, the hooded man had gone.

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