The Last Song
- Reads 451
- Votes 94
- Parts 2
MatureOngoing6m
Last published Tue, Mar 8, 2016
I cannot teach anybody anything. I can only make them think......
( SOCRATES)
...
A life without suffering and experience is not life.......
( SOCRATES)
...
The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.......
( SOCRATES)
...
So you wouldn't have some idea after reading three of SOCRATES quotes that I'm not a partizan of SOCRATES.
But I can't deny that those three quotes are "THE THREE MUSKETEERS" of my piqued life.
This quotes consecutively defines three faces of my baffled life which first made me cry for a woman, influenced a revolutionary speaker in me, and finally at the end I proved what my drunkard Dad used to quote-"You're the devil's infant. You would only make us, and people cry."
I made you proud Dad, see everyone is crying over my corpse.....
THIS IS RJ....
I'm the so called MC of this story (Which is kinda acronym of very famous abusive word which greeted me many of times and profound vice versa ).
I'm grateful that my friend has written my biography . But do not take it as one or you will kill him .
Just enjoy it like an extravaganza....
...
All Rights Reserved
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MC Romance Neil watched for too long, he figured. His club, the Lords MC in Florida became more 'outlaw' every week, and he saw no opportunity to change that direction. He never wanted to be outlaw, and now he was delivering enough to put him down for 30 years, three times a week. With his dad passing away, and his little sisters needing him around more, it was a wake-up call. Time to ride, with someone else if he found a pack worth joining, or lone wolf if not. With his status and tenure, it never occurred to him that he wouldn't be allowed to move on. When Shayla and Sydney came in as dealers a few years back instead of finishing college, their vow was a few years then out. They had a hell of a run. Parties that were legend, lovers of every sexy man type from Cuban to Norwegian and back again. But it was game time again. The years were great, but not what they wanted for their lives. Then they met Neil, and it was like seeing themselves for the first time, in stark light. He was always courteous and professional, unlike their other delivery men from the MC. He never treated them with anything except respect. In the reflection of his cobalt eyes, though, neither saw themselves worth his respect. It wasn't a shaming, more of a profound regret that a man like Neil finally showed up and they were too far into the life to say "hey, this isn't who we are." The whole "I'm not as I am" Othello play was for victims anyway, and they weren't victims. They were volunteers. But just meeting Neil slammed the door on waiting any longer to get out and back to university. Then two other dealers left the club, and turned up in trash bags, their bodies hacked up by machete.
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