Alternate Novel

A man and a woman, simply sharing a similar habit, and the story starts, one man takes the courage to express to what he thinks only to himself but for all to hear, simply read, you will find a piece.

....that's the name of my story, you know , the one that twisted me up, made everything else feel transparent.
So, what's the name of your horrible break up and sad story-She asks with a tiny smile on her face.
Oh, girlie my story has many names, and so does my horrible break up.
Want a Smoke-She asks him moving closer
I don't smoke anymore it's been a while.
Then why do I see you out here all time-She asks.
I remember the best part about smoking WASENT the nicotine, it actually made me feel worse than before I smoked it, but no, it was the fact that for those 71/2 minutes I was at peace with the world, you know, just focused inside my head and the beauty of watching the delicacy as the ciggrette so delicately disappears, we all wish we could do that every once in a while.
Well, that was the most intimate answer I've ever heard twoards a cigarette, coming from a current non smoker-She says
Well you asked.

I know now more than ever that it's something so complete being the man you choose to become, I know now that everything that turns us towards their appeal has a purpose of simply leading us to clarity, clarity to our views and judgment on the same things we once so graciously envied, and it might be the best part watching the progression of the fog being lifted from infront of you and there stands a mirror and all you can hope for is that you are able to look him in the eye.

There is no more sympathy, no more watching and waiting for the tears we've made up our minds and wer moving wer taking the row and attacking, no more defense the helplessness is our fuel and to a smart man that is terrifying. We found it, it found us, now we can step down to earth and solve the small picture in order to get an invitation with the great visionaries and all the Kings of great reach.

All men are different in every way, but one thing stays the same among many, is the look and expression in the face at the moment of vulnerability and redemption.

The offers I made to people I despise, come back in memory when the time comes for pay, the time for correction and self righteousness.

You touch her for a brief second, you touch her and you forget for one second about the past and just think how sweet it is, what you have, and the sexual pleasures and you don't know how she feels inside or anyone, but then it comes overflowing in it comes with such rage and despise, the thoughts of the past her past and the sweet things she had and the sexual pleasures she enjoyed and the special things you don't know of, knowledge is a very cruel thing, true to whomever said it, it's a despise and immediate reject of another, a thought of filth and nothingness, "You make me feel Like I am not worth being loved" and how rite she was, as if she put the words together to my thoughts, but I know it's my insecurities that spark these images, I don't put the blame on others I simply use them as a conduit to reflect my anger, as a way of expression, because what better way to make you feel better than seeing how much worse it is, purely, bluntly, in front of your eyes, a creation of truly yours.

To achieve Greatness You must first reach Desperation.

Author's Note

Only a part of us understands what we fully do and why on a daily basis, the rest must be addressed by another wanting change in his own routine.