Jack Daniels
08-21-2008, 07:13 PM
Life is a addiction you have to take in doses, to much will kill you and not enough will drive you insane and ironically kill the weak of heart. Still though Alex had a hard time coming to terms with this, yet it was his own words. He wondered if everyone thought this way once in a while so torn by beliefs and the general conceptions of society or was he one of the few thinkers left. People had always called him a dreamer, but this was just a misconception from them. Alex was no more a dreamer than the person next to him, he was a thinker of the literal and non literal, though arnt they the same in some way, cant they be the same and polar opposites at time? He didn't care to think any more, the wind hit him and sent a chill down his spine.
As he walked towards the house at the end of the drive he bite his lip. Knowing the next hour or so would be persuing questions and doubts about his beliefs and his thoughts of the upcoming events. This made Alex think to himself,
"I have neglected this long enough."
It was true he had, yet he was glade he had as though his meaningless conversations with himself carried more importance than this. In some way he actually started to believe this was true, though deep down he knew it was more fear than anything.
Alex reached the front steps he climbed them slowly, hands still shoved deep in his pockets with his collar up to cover his neck and part of his face from the violent wind. Alex reached out and gave the huge door 3 steady knocks. Noise from the other side came to his ears and the door swung open, a little lady stood in front of him; her hair up in a french bun and wearing a nanny uniform from the old country. She gave Alex a slight smile and gestured him to come in and he did giving the little lady a slight bow of the head and as he walked pass could smell here perfume a every plan smell with the hint of lavender. The door slammed behind him and the women hurried to him helping him take off his jacket and once off she went to the rack hanging it up, then scurrying past him and gesturing down the long hall to a light room at the other end of it. Alex gave her another bow and started to walk down the hall, pictures hung everywhere some very old, some newer all hand painted by amazing realist artist.
"Only the rich would waste money on this or those who loved the arts this much."
Alex never did care much for art, but maybe that had to do with his long past.
That reminds me I have never fully introduced myself, I am Lysander. And why do I matter? Well I am telling you this story am I not? Yes, but my name and story wont be for some time now, but to help you more and help you understand Alex lets venture back a ways to the beginning. Now I will only tell you enough to get a general idea of what he is about and is, also will help future events and why I am telling you this story and not him.
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Ok this is just the start want to know what some of you think so far I have part1-3 written but correcting them and rewritting a little bit.
So yea tell me what you think I have so far. Also this will most likely be a 10 part story, maybe even more.
Also will add more desciptive version soon this is the rushed one.
As he walked towards the house at the end of the drive he bite his lip. Knowing the next hour or so would be persuing questions and doubts about his beliefs and his thoughts of the upcoming events. This made Alex think to himself,
"I have neglected this long enough."
It was true he had, yet he was glade he had as though his meaningless conversations with himself carried more importance than this. In some way he actually started to believe this was true, though deep down he knew it was more fear than anything.
Alex reached the front steps he climbed them slowly, hands still shoved deep in his pockets with his collar up to cover his neck and part of his face from the violent wind. Alex reached out and gave the huge door 3 steady knocks. Noise from the other side came to his ears and the door swung open, a little lady stood in front of him; her hair up in a french bun and wearing a nanny uniform from the old country. She gave Alex a slight smile and gestured him to come in and he did giving the little lady a slight bow of the head and as he walked pass could smell here perfume a every plan smell with the hint of lavender. The door slammed behind him and the women hurried to him helping him take off his jacket and once off she went to the rack hanging it up, then scurrying past him and gesturing down the long hall to a light room at the other end of it. Alex gave her another bow and started to walk down the hall, pictures hung everywhere some very old, some newer all hand painted by amazing realist artist.
"Only the rich would waste money on this or those who loved the arts this much."
Alex never did care much for art, but maybe that had to do with his long past.
That reminds me I have never fully introduced myself, I am Lysander. And why do I matter? Well I am telling you this story am I not? Yes, but my name and story wont be for some time now, but to help you more and help you understand Alex lets venture back a ways to the beginning. Now I will only tell you enough to get a general idea of what he is about and is, also will help future events and why I am telling you this story and not him.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ok this is just the start want to know what some of you think so far I have part1-3 written but correcting them and rewritting a little bit.
So yea tell me what you think I have so far. Also this will most likely be a 10 part story, maybe even more.
Also will add more desciptive version soon this is the rushed one.