My Name is Adam

I walked into the hall with pep in my step.  On any other day I would have shivered nervously and tread slow.

But not today.  Today was different.  Today I felt that fire of life that I had long since been missing.  I remembered something.  My name is Adam.  And I am one bad ass son of a bitch.

As my feet slid upon the marble tiles music danced in my head.  The sounds of the BeeGee rang through to my toes and my walk became a strut; slick suede jacket swaying with my jig.  I tossed casual “I could have you” stares at the women I passed.  It felt good.  I felt strong; powerful.  And the longer it went on, I could not decide whether I wanted to blow shit up or fuck someone senseless.  And secretly I wondered if I were capable of both.

This is how I once felt.  Yeah, I was an arrogant prick.  But I was a man.  It felt good to feel strong and masculine. And then one day I lost it.  Lost.  I have been hollow inside.  Stifled and no longer in control of my own destiny.  Less than a man. Less than a human.
But today was different.  And tomorrow will be a brand new day.


One response to this post.

  1. okay you rock. ROCK. [fucking rock.]


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