Wisdom
I ran through the packed station like a salmon in a stream. Cutting past the crowds and commuters skillfully. I ran down the platform and just managed to get myself onto the train as the doors were closing. In a moment similar to Indiana Jones, I reached out of the door to pick up my dropped newspaper just as the doors closed. As I stood up and sorted out my twisted clothes I looked up and down the carriage and found a seat with a table opposite an elderly looking gentleman.

I sat down and placed the paper on the table as the train started its journey to Brighton. Starring out the window I felt the pain and turmoil rise up in me. “Why does life have to be like this” I pondered while London disappeared into countryside.

“You have a lot of pain in your eyes” said the old man
“Excuse me” I stuttered out
“You have a lot of pain in your eyes” he repeated “Too much pain for someone of your age. I am old, each wrinkle on my face tells a story, and each story is a lifetime. Share your pain with me son”

So I did. I let me heart out to him. I told this kindly old stranger my story from start to finish. In the next 30 minutes I felt every single human emotion. As I finished each sentence I started to feel a little more positive. A little more human. By the time I had told him my tale I felt alive for the first time in 18 months.

There was silence. This grand old man contemplated all he had heard. I could tell he was thinking of all his life’s lessons and he was in deep study of the encyclopedia of knowledge held behind that weathered face.

“Son, I have seen a lot. I have lived through war, death, new life and suffering. The one thing that has kept me going is that I know everything turns out for the best. Hope is all you have. Hope is all you need. Stay positive son and good things will happen”

I promised myself at that moment I would live by his words

I very much doubt he is reading this, but, if he is I would like to thank, with all my heart, the man at starbucks in waterloo station for making my espresso in record time. If it was not for his speedy service I would have missed the train and my only chance to fuck Debby up the shitter
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 16:38, 7 replies)

The last line almost made me spit coffee
The old fella's words are pretty poignant though. Raised a smile.
(Sundayturkey has the biggest mug of tea, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 16:48, closed)

You fucking bastard
full on office rofling going on. My colleague has just asked me why I'm smirking like a creamed cat.
(Himjim died a little more inside on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:11, closed)

...with a chili-dildo
.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:42, closed)

That's fucking disgraceful
you serial bum rapist.
(Bazongaloid, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 18:44, closed)

A click
Not for the lovely story, but for not letting the tale end gracefully but with you pounding poor Debby up the wrong'un and your hairy arse pounding away like a hammer.

Thanks for that, I didn't want to eat my dinner anyway.
(Lurkaloid awarded wanking black belt on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 19:04, closed)

So wrong
and yet... click.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Sat 4 Oct 2008, 12:57, closed)

god bless...
the old fella for listening, and Debby for letting you visit her brown Narnia.

Have a click!
(Chad, Mon 6 Oct 2008, 12:46, closed)