Cinema is dying.

Not loudly.

Not in flames.

It is dying the way great houses fall….quietly, behind velvet curtains, while everyone pretends the rot is refinement.

I noticed it when the light stopped lingering.

When moments were rushed.

When silence became something to fear instead of something to respect.

There was a time when a single frame could hold a room.

When a pause meant confidence.

When the audience leaned forward because they trusted you not to waste their attention.

I lived in that world.

Then the fire came.

Not dramatic.

Not symbolic.

Just heat.

And smoke.

And the sudden understanding that beauty is only celebrated as long as it behaves.

They said “cut” as if endings still listened to them.

As if history ever obeyed commands.

They didn’t see a survivor.

They saw an inconvenience.

So they closed the book.

Crossed out the name Diego Valera.

Moved on with remarkable efficiency.

That is how aristocracies fall not by force, but by impatience.

They believed the face was the value.

They were mistaken.

Cinema was never skin-deep.

It was discipline.

Timing.

Restraint.

It was knowing when not to move.

That is what I carried with me into the dark.

This ring is not chaos to me.

It is order.

Every step is intentional.

Every pause is calculated.

Every strike arrives precisely when it should AND not when it is demanded.

I do not rush.

I do not scramble.

Urgency is for those unsure of their place.

I am flamboyant because legacy is never subtle.

I am excessive because history remembers those who refuse moderation.

I am composed because the leading man does not explain himself.

He allows the world to adjust.

Others enter Old School Wrestling hoping to survive. Hoping noise will disguise their lack of substance.

I came to restore standards.

The Temple is not an arena.

It is an estate.

Slam is not a show.

It is a presentation.

Every match is a lesson in composure, delivered with consequence.

They call me lost.

How pedestrian.

I was refined by fire.

Burned down to what mattered.

Freed from ornament.

Left with only authority.

I am not here to chase approval.

I am not here to relive what was taken.

I am here to replace it.

To remind this world what permanence looks like.

What patience sounds like.

What power feels like when it doesn’t need to raise its voice.

Cinema is dying.

I will not save it.

I will inherit it.

I remain its final devotee.