# Untitled Excerpt (language and adult themes)



## Roy Goode (Jun 27, 2018)

Hello all,


I decided to discontinue my previous piece, which was about an assassin. I decided, instead, to write a first person excerpt concerning my own life at the moment and what I want to do. I want to make a story about my journey of finding a woman. Let me know what you think. 


*Untitled*

*Chapter One*​

I have just moved out of my parents house. For the sole purpose of getting laid. That's all I am trying to do. Nothing else. I don't care about climbing the property ladder or care about proving I am all grown-up and independent. I am now the tenant of a modest one-bedroom abode offered to me by the council. To look at it, you'd think it was a dump. But it's home. My new home. The reason I am absolutely over-joyed to be living here is because it means I now have somewhere to pull a girl to.There is potential. 


You see, it's exceptionally difficult,bordering impossible to convince a woman to go home with you if you still live in your parents house. What are you supposed to do? Keep the noise down? Take her to a field or around the back of the nightclub? Maybe book a hotel? The logistical issues are a demon I have been wrestling for years. Many a person doing the Devils work for him have kept me in submission for years, or so they would boast.Let's just say I haven't had that much support. I have been treated badly by many and there is no way to fight back. The absolute wroth I feel could get in the way at some point. 


Let me share with you the goal. My goal. I want a girlfriend. A loyal and loving girlfriend is more precious than all of the money and jewels in the world. That is what I intend to gain for myself. To gain a woman to love...there is nothing that makes me feel like more of a man. I will do it. 


For someone who took twenty-eight years to move out of his parents house...you'd be surprised. I know what I am doing. I know how to get girls. I can seduce them. I can master them. Yes. The girls love it. However, there are risks. There is always an element of risk surrounding a seduction, and the risk I have to endure is the animosity of envious men. It is impossible to overstate how dangerous this is for me. It only occurs when you know what you are doing. And I do. 


But, like I said, she is more precious than all the money and jewels in the world. I know how most people go about finding a lover. Or should I say provider? Whichever word you use, there are certain avenues people use to find their special someone. The main one is finding a person through their social circle. You know what I'm talking about. Your friend introduces you to someone. You make an online dating profile and wait for the inbox messages to come flooding in. If you're a girl. Or you find areas where there are traces of community and a so-called “group”atmosphere.” Think fitness boot-camps, classes and clubs. There is surely a gorgeous Prince or Princess there for you? Yeah? And you can't wait to tell your friends on social media about your new squeeze, can you? 


I do it differently. Yeah I know, but I am way more gangster than you in this regard. What I do stipulates that I face evolutionary risks, or I get nothing. But if I do make a bold move to seduce a woman...I could die. Why? Is she a mermaid? An assassin? A woman scorned and full of wroth, waiting for some unsuspecting boy to take it out on? No. It's the men. 


You see, in a bar, nightclub or even on a high street, if I spot a woman I like and I feel some attraction, I still have no way of knowing if she is single. I could talk to her, only to discover to my horror that she is the girlfriend of Al Capone or a heavyweight boxing champion. What does that mean for me? During the stone age, in a fifty person human tribe marauding around the wild, talking to the wrong woman meant death for the man.The grey-back protects his investment, and hits this would-be suitor over the head with a big rock. Goodnight. 


You should see my flat though. I'm standing in it right now. There are no carpets, no appliances, no furniture and the white paint on the walls and ceiling is peeling and yellowing. It boasts a bath, sink, toilet, a few sockets and some cupboards. Nothing else. There is one Ethernet port that was installed by an old cable television company. It's not a cave this place, but it's close. The council granted me one hundred pounds to decorate and furnish. I'll start with a kettle and a teapot. 


Let me elaborate further on my circumstances. You know how I'm talking about getting a girlfriend? Of dating, pulling and then fucking? People instantly think of physical appearance, so I will give an honest appraisal of what I look like. 


I'm shorter than average, my hairline is receding, I have hair on my chest, back and arms that is unsightly. I'm fat. I actually qualify for the obese category,according to the NHS. In the club. My most detrimental feature,though, is my teeth. I have been chain-smoking twenty to forty cigarettes per day for four years. I probably drink about five cups of tea per day as well. Smoking kills your energy, and tea has caffeine that brings it back. Talk about chasing your tail around. My teeth are yellowed just like the white paint on the walls, and a smile is the most potent weapon in the arsenal of any seducer. That beam is the difference between closing deals on the sales floor, and walking out of the club with the girl eagerly holding your hand. 


Smoking really does kill you. However,despite all of these disadvantages, my ambitions are high. I said that a wife to love was precious, and I don't want just any woman.No. I'm talking women from good families. I'm talking celebrities.The popular crowd. The in crowd. Women who lift weights and read.Women who eat healthy, use long words and women who have a long line of suitors eagerly waiting for their turn to throw themselves at her feet. When I'm in a nightclub, I'm competing with inked muscle boys,the DJs groupies, the barman, the doorman and the man with the purest cocaine. You should know that even a shy and demure girl would cheat on me in the blink-of-an-eye if one of these men makes a move on her.That's if he plays it right. 


I will remind you, though, that I have a flat. A place to call my own. My name, at the very least, is on the tenancy agreement. I have a key to a space, so when I bring a girl there, she can be as naked as she wants. And no one can bother us. It will be me and my girl. 


Well, I've already described the interior of my cave. But what about the outside? Let me talk about the local community. The residents of my estate. It's all social housing. Unemployed persons claiming housing benefit, and then there is the anti-social younger generation. Back when I was “the younger generation” it was far worse. We didn't have social media or slick mobile phone applications to entertain us. But then, we didn't have a war to fight either. Still, I've ordered a baseball bat from the internet. It's aluminium and I can just say that I play rounders with my friends on summer days. You never know.


I did mention earlier on that it took me twenty-eight years to move out of my parents house. Well, that'snot strictly true. I did have a phase several years ago when I enrolled on a university course, got a student loan and lived in halls. I had one room and a kitchen I shared with six other tenants.Did I really want to be an accountant? No. What I envisaged was a pilgrimage. A journey where I hit the clubs in the city and pulled girls back to my flat. The others quickly sussed me out. However, I had a relationship with one of them. She was called Sophie. 


She was amazing. She was a gymnast,she was from an affluent family, she was tall, she was tanned, she had that supermodel figure and she had this exotic look, despite being as English as tea with fish and chips. But, that situation was unsustainable. Could I really justify pretending to be a student just so I could move out of my parents house? Even if she was in the equation, I couldn't do this. Not for nine thousand per year especially. 


Going forward, I'll tell you what the plan is. The first step. I will tell you everything. I will give you an honest account of everything that happens on this escapade. The first step is to find a crew. A squad. A group of friends. And this group must be all female. Except for me. Once I win that situation, I will put those girls to work. I will probably need to fuck one of them, so she actually gives a damn about finding out who I am. I am someone, by the way. You don't know yet. I haven't told you. But I will show you.


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## Harper J. Cole (Jun 27, 2018)

Hi there Roy,

It's an interesting piece - I'm not sure whether this is directly autobiographical, or whether it's fiction based upon your own experiences. The portrayal of character is vivid, in any case.

As someone who went past age 30 with my virginity intact, I do recognise the feeling that love/sex are the answer to all life's problems. In reality, I found that that one single act doesn't redefine our lives, and more profound changes come from within, e.g. volunteering at a charity shop made a big difference to how I perceive myself. Relations with females are nice, but don't define who we are. I hope that we see your protagonist might come to a similar conclusion as the story goes on?

The writing is mostly solid, but watch out for possessive apostrophes, e.g. "my parents' house" needs an apostrophe.

HJC


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## H.Brown (Jun 27, 2018)

Hi there Roy, this piece is well written adn has many effects upon the reader, the imagery you use is clear and paints very clear and detailed images into the readers mind. You say that this is autobiographical, if so is it not a piece of non-fiction rather than prose or is it meant to be a fictious autobiography if so it belongs here in prose. I didn't find many things that caused me to stumble when I was reading. You set up a forceful main character that comes across to me a litle degranged in his singleminded pursuit of women.


I do have a question though as I read you keep mentioning that you are after a particular womenn is this someone you/main character has already met and would like to meet again or is it just a generalisaation that you/mc wants any women to love?

And was your intention to have the mc come across a little sinister as that is how I read it?


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## jenthepen (Jun 28, 2018)

Hi, Roy and welcome to WF. 

Your work has the feel of British irony and humour. The way you set up such downbeat situations against high-flying dreams feels ripe for some rich comedy. Is this your intention? I think your story could have potential if you take it in this direction, play up the ridiculous elements and work to develop the personality of the mc.

The writing's pretty good and I didn't notice many mistakes, although 'wrath' is spelled with an 'a'.


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## Roy Goode (Jun 28, 2018)

Harper J. Cole said:


> Hi there Roy,
> 
> It's an interesting piece - I'm not sure whether this is directly autobiographical, or whether it's fiction based upon your own experiences. The portrayal of character is vivid, in any case.
> 
> ...



Yeah it's autobiographical and not a million miles away from a series of journal entries. You know how a person might keep a blog or a journal and write about their life? 

I fully expect the main character to feel unfulfilled when he begins having relationships with women. It's difficult to build up actual self-esteem vs. looking for a quick fix that will "make everything ok." 



H.Brown said:


> Hi there Roy, this piece is well written adn has many effects upon the reader, the imagery you use is clear and paints very clear and detailed images into the readers mind. You say that this is autobiographical, if so is it not a piece of non-fiction rather than prose or is it meant to be a fictious autobiography if so it belongs here in prose. I didn't find many things that caused me to stumble when I was reading. You set up a forceful main character that comes across to me a litle degranged in his singleminded pursuit of women.
> 
> 
> I do have a question though as I read you keep mentioning that you are after a particular womenn is this someone you/main character has already met and would like to meet again or is it just a generalisaation that you/mc wants any women to love?
> ...



No the women from the past are very much from the past. To return and try to "win back" a certain someone is not something I want to do. 

The deranged comment I found quite amusing. The pursuit of women, though, is a biological drive second only to survival. It's something the main character has to do and he must face the obstacles. 

And yes the main character is sinister because he has not had the freedom to express himself, and has tried countless methods to deal with and suppress his own pain. 



jenthepen said:


> Hi, Roy and welcome to WF.
> 
> Your work has the feel of British irony and humour. The way you set up such downbeat situations against high-flying dreams feels ripe for some rich comedy. Is this your intention? I think your story could have potential if you take it in this direction, play up the ridiculous elements and work to develop the personality of the mc.
> 
> The writing's pretty good and I didn't notice many mistakes, although 'wrath' is spelled with an 'a'.



I suppose it could become funny later on. Depends on any mistake the main character could make. 

Anyway, I've wrote some more....

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*Chapter One (Continued)

*​One thing I did forget to mention about my appearance was the glasses. Such are not a good indicator of health. Imagine trying to hunt in the wild, before the optician could help you, and trying to hunt deer or elk? With no sight, such a man is at a major disadvantage. A woman knows this intuitively, the man is limited in his abilities to provide for her and the family. 

The condition of my eyes, however, does not bear the brunt of my health concerns. It is my mental health that many would call into question, strangers in night clubs especially. It has happened to me before. Also, one person recently thought of me as deranged thanks to my single-minded pursuit of women. Imagine being approach in public, in a bar or a club, by someone who is a complete whack job? Such would be unnerving, and you would quickly look to be rid of such an intrusion. I read in a book once about "violation theory" and it got me thinking about whenever I might have infringed upon a persons' boundaries.

Allow me to explain what has fueled this particular fire that has been lit up underneath me. I am fully aware of all the phrases and words of comfort that would grant me license to remain a sloth. The right person will come, you will find a woman one day and just be patient for it is not your time yet. All such things are no good to me now. I am twenty-eight years of age, and the average life expectancy of a person is around eighty-one years in the UK. That's the equivalent of twenty nine thousand five hundred and sixty five days. Imagine the grim reaper checking his watch every ten seconds while he watches you. 

I crave a romance, sure, but in its most brutal form, this game is about passing on your genes. Imagine if you were too weak, too shy, too lazy, too ugly, too this, too that to have children? Your genes are effectively removed from existence and there will be no one to save you. No one to apologize or ask you for forgiveness. It's not a form of bullying or of trying to make you feel bad about yourself. It just is. When I heard the life expectancy given in days I quickly felt the fear and had to face some things, those important things that can take root and have a person rotting if left untended. 

When I discovered this, I figured out what I needed to do. When I say that, it really could mean anything if you think about. What I need to do to inherit the Kingdom of God, what I need to do to find and love a woman, what I need to do to survive, to save myself, to become rich and famous or to build self-esteem. Whatever knowledge, goals or beliefs a person has to assist, I now have a gut instinct concerning what I need to do. 

Going back to what I said earlier about mental health. I continuously hear voices from the community I grew up with, long ago. Issues fighting battles with control freaks, narcissists and those who have aggression issues and anti-social personality disorder. These voices, arguments, scars, battles and the collateral damage I witnessed haunt me on a daily basis. As do the issues surrounding my relationship with Sophie. Issues faces growing up is a topic that many people could speak of. It is for this reason that I am a heavy drinker, smoker and user of pornography. 

I will elaborate further on pornography and how it's a masturbation tool. I realize that it could be seen as something of a cop out. It is a sexual act and will never result in the conception of a child. I suspect that the firm DUREX and the mainstream use of the internet and all it has to offer might well have made lust and desire a powerful and noxious force that could affect a persons life from health to their relationships with other people. I would say that out of concern, it is not my wish to sit in judgement over anyone. I learned empathy and warfare when I used to play chess against myself. 

My own encounter with lust, however, was not strictly my use of pornography. Rather, say, I had an experience was more real. The notion that a sexual relationship could just be sex and nothing else is a notion that has not escaped people as a possibility. I, personally, would want to be certain that I was building something real and wholesome. However, I had a sexual relationship that was not even a relationship, as such. It didn't even include sex. At least, not intercourse. Let me explain...

I was involved with a woman who called herself a financial dominatrix. I had already had the pain from this encounter etched onto my soul by the time I met Sophie. A woman can tell, especially as the love grows. This financial dominatrix called herself Laura. The name Laura was not her real name, so let us call it a stage name. You know what I'm talking about, it was for her own security rather than being a catchy brand. Perhaps that was part of her allure. 

I sent this woman thousands of pounds. I am not even joking. There I was, living with my parents and I spent nigh all of my wages on this woman. That's the fetish. To enjoy a woman taking money from me is something I reveled in for months. I have been back to re-visit the fetish several times. But Laura was my first. Anything she wanted, I would provide. Cash tributes, shoes, bags, dresses, DVDs, laptops and lingerie. She would ask for anything that took her fancy. I catered to Laura and her slightest whim.

In return? I got humiliation, abuse, degradation at the hands of Laura herself, her friends and her lover. That's what it's about. That's the aim. So you can probably see why it's called a kink, or fetish. The desire to have such things happen to me is undoubtedly a result of some of the confusion that plagues me growing up. The confusion and the pain makes a person crave an escape from such. In short, I became gradually poorer and poorer whilst Laura became richer and richer. I can't stand losing any kind of fight, so I have to face up to things and sort my life out. There is no other way. 

I know of many things that can help me repair and improve myself. Healthy food, lifting weights, cardiovascular exercise, reading, talking to women and meditation. Meditation being another facet of spirituality that is extremely interesting. I'm currently sat in a beer garden outside my local pub. I have a chalice of dutch lager in front of me, and a cigarette is burning away in the ashtray. I am going to do my first approach. By "approach" I mean approach a woman. 

This is no small thing, this approaching. Remember what I said about the grey-back caveman with all of his subordinates and how he wants to protect his women? That's a mechanism at work in my mind at the moment. In short, making an approach is terrifying. I'm feeling the anxiety because I know I am about to do it.


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## Harper J. Cole (Jun 28, 2018)

The tone is dark, but it's strong stuff. I can feel the MC's disappointments and frustrations, and hope that things will improve for him.

HJC


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## Pete_C (Jun 29, 2018)

In a similar track to your other piece, this jumps around which makes it feel a little undeveloped. It also walks the line of what I would call ‘whiney’. The darkness isn’t dark enough and the humour isn’t humorous enough. The result is that the MC was, for me, unlikeable, verging on puerile.

I think you have to decide whether you’re going for humour or darkness, and take a plunge onto one side of the fence or the other. Get that right before you invest time and effort in continuing the tale.

Flawed characters are great for both humour and darkness, but be careful of how those flaws are presented. Readers will side with a flawed character who has humanity, or will despise a flawed character who is evil. Both are good. However, a flawed character that comes across as a dick will struggle to keep readers reading.

There’s enough here to work with. Finding the right voice for this piece is essential, because currently the MC is contradictory which makes him weaker than he could be.


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## Roy Goode (Jun 29, 2018)

*​Chapter One (Continued)*​

The pub I am in is full of revelers. Groups and groups of young people who are out in force to watch the England football team play in the world cup. They are all dressed in their summer clothes. The boys are wearing shorts and t-shirts and the girls are wearing sandals, crop-tops, skirts and everyone looks amazing to me. My issue is, though, is that they're all out in groups and look to be bonding and bantering within their social circles. That family a person chooses for themselves. Me, on the other hand, I am stuck on my own.


It doesn't sound that bad, granted. What is to stop a gentleman going to the pub all by his lonesome and enjoying a few lagers and a few cigarettes? It's not as if anyone would bother me. Even in a rough pub I would get left alone, trust me. The women, however...when they see a man who is standing in the corner by himself, scanning the room, they instantly disregard him and might even fear him as a creep or a weirdo. I encountered no hostility from any of the women in the venue, but I knew where I stood in the pecking order, and I felt like shit as a result. 


So what did I do then? Did I do any approaches? Did I talk to any women? The answer, in short, is no. Not even one. I didn't even begin to tackle my approach anxiety. So what did I do then? Well, I drank and I drank and I smoked and I smoked. I finished the night sinking double vodka after double vodka in the seating area of a bar, all by my lonesome once again. I finished each drink in a few minutes and in a few gulps, and when I left the bar I would light a cigarette and put my headphones in. I listened to songs about the IRA. Yeah, the IRA...as in the Irish Republican Army. 


You might well ask: what do the IRA have to do with going out and trying to find a girlfriend? Well, I would have to concede: absolutely nothing. But I admit that it is not a good sign that I am listening to songs about warfare when I am supposed to be trying to find a woman. What sort of vibe would a woman want from a man who was interested in her? I suppose anyone would think of words such as charming, fun, relaxed, humorous and maybe even cocky and cheeky. Never, ever angry or dangerous. But me...I just feel wrath within myself. It's time to stop drinking and time to stop smoking cigarettes, I feel. 


Would you like to know the lyrics or one of these IRA songs?


I was born on a Dublin street where the royal drums did beat,
And those loving English feet they tramped all over us,
And each and every night when me father came home tight
He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus:


Come out ye Black and Tans, come out and fight me like a man,
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.


Come tell us how you slew them poor Arabs two by two,
Like the Zulus they had spears and bows and arrows,
How you bravely faced each one with your 16-pounder gun,
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow.


Come out ye Black and Tans, come out and fight me like a man,
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.


Come let us hear you tell how you slandered great Parnell,
When you thought him well and truly persecuted,
Where are the sneers and jeers that you bravely let us hear
When our heroes of '16 were executed?


Come out ye Black and Tans, come out and fight me like a man,
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.


Well the day is coming fast and the time is here at last,
When each yeoman will be cut aside before us,
And if there be a need, sure me kids would sing, "Godspeed, "
With a verse or two of Stephen Behan's chorus:


Come out ye Black and Tans, come out and fight me like a man,
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders,
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killashandra.


I'm not sure why, but I really enjoy the idea of an entity being chased away from somewhere. Perhaps it's from my days as a youngster attending a catholic school. Any member of the community must defend Isreal when it's under attack. Could I make the argument that the quality of my life is under attack from entities such as wrath, addiction, hostility from the community, vindictive women, violent men and generally any person who has a little darkness and pain that they would inflict upon another? The world can be an evil place. It's one of the reasons that I didn't approach any women tonight. That and the grey-back with his rock.


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## Roy Goode (Jun 29, 2018)

Pete_C said:


> In a similar track to your other piece, this jumps around which makes it feel a little undeveloped. It also walks the line of what I would call ‘whiney’. The darkness isn’t dark enough and the humour isn’t humorous enough. The result is that the MC was, for me, unlikeable, verging on puerile.
> 
> I think you have to decide whether you’re going for humour or darkness, and take a plunge onto one side of the fence or the other. Get that right before you invest time and effort in continuing the tale.
> 
> ...



Yeah the main character is childish but there is room for growth if he does this.


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## Ralph Rotten (Jun 30, 2018)

There is an old writer's adage that says 'write what you know.'
You seem to be doing that. Keep working at it.

This piece you are working on is good practice at the mechanics, as well as character development.  
The story has potential, but I would have come at it from another angle entirely.
See the purpose of characters is to draw in the reader, to attract them.
But the way you wrote this felt a little creepy...and I am a certified degenerate.

Keep pounding out that text. Olympians train, writers write.


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## Roy Goode (Jul 1, 2018)

*Chapter One (Continued)
*​
I forgot to mention that I went on to a different venue after my local. Why? So unhappy I was with admitting defeat in there that I decided to give it another go. Although this was self-serving nonsense, you can tell. I wanted to get more drunk. I know about getting too drunk, as it is said that those who drink too much wine will not inherit the Kingdom of God. I most certainly did not, by the way. I will tell you what did happen though...

I went to a haunt of mine and discovered that the line at the entrance was too big. It has to be said that the venue would not have justified the wait. In fact, the venue would not have even justified the decision to leave the house. But whatever, people go out and drink whilst other people play football for their country. 

I attended, instead, a colorful and cheesy little bar that plays eighties and nineties music. There is a rather annoying misconception that a bar like this is somehow superior because it plays old music. Perhaps the average punter feels older and wiser? I only felt drunk and miserable, and definitely more stupid. I encountered, also a young woman who decided to spend the night stalking me. You know why some women do this? They are not right with the LORD, and so they would seek to adopt themselves a martyr. Yeah right, I am sure.

The stagecraft this woman chose was to sit across the street watching the smoking area at which I was inhaling carcinogens on a constant basis. The only break I had from smoking was to free my mouth for drinking. You can't smoke cigarettes inside, and you can't take drinks outside. I thought of Sophie several times because her parents were divorced. But this girl, she's called Chloe, spent most of the night on her phone, and eventually her male friend turned up and, I'm guessing, took her home. You know who this friend was...

Anyway, just know that I've sent this girl money several times. This wasn't lust, though, as it was with Laura, but charity. She has returned with her hand out several times. Last text message she sent me was a complaint about her father's grave, which she told me was spoiling. Now, I can't even begin to tell you the capacity this woman has for sending a person absolutely mental. The essays upon essays of rants about her mother were enough to make me run a mile. Does a woman really want a man to adopt her? Perhaps she'd like a "normal" relationship?

There was another girl wearing a white crop-top, harem pants and she was exquisitely bronzed. She was sat on the floor and had taken off her white stiletto sandals. She was smoking. She was dainty and adorable in her struggle to put them back on, and she beckoned me over to assist her with the strap. I continued listening to songs about the IRA, instead. Another woman walked over to me and begged me for my phone so that she could call a taxi. She also wanted to employ me to walk inside the bar and find her friend. She told me that he had a beard. There are more beards around her than a Jewish Synagogue. She was rescued by her friend. Her beardless friend, who may have thought that I was chatting her up. Sometimes life is too funny to even laugh. 

Despite the disappointment, I decided to go out the following night also. This time I went to another haunt that plays heavy metal music. The place is full of goths, moshers, piercings, tattoos and brightly colored hair. I'm talking hair dyed purple, pink, green, blue and other such loud colors. I finally did it, though. I finally approached a girl.


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## Guslar (Jul 7, 2018)

It certainly reads like it was written in a single try, within a few minutes. Thoughts are just bubbling up all over the place and, I must admit, it is interesting to read such stuff. Especially from a man, as I've been used to reading texts like these written by women complaining about their love lives. It certainly has that vibe, and a vibe of honesty. The style's good and can be only emulated by the best of writers, in my opinion, as it reeks of honesty and personal experience.

The only thing missing here is more inner contemplation of the MC about himself, his past and present. Why is he like this? What works best to fix himself and why ( thought of more in detail ). It could become an even better story if there was a second character, a woman for example, giving insights to the MC about what he's doing right or wrong?


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