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Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Relationship Between My Cars and I

Cars and I have al styles had an interesting relationship. We have a sort of enjoy hatred thing going. The smell knocked out(p) of the stick, the articulateness of the gas, it makes me purport alive. Then there is the essay, the journey to recall such(prenominal) stimulating machines. The smoothness leaves it is replaced with a grating, the stick jerks and shakes, what has happened to my precious? The see the drive I feel alive until if fades and then I despise. How place I be intimate something one minute and hate it the next? The speed the handling I love it. It is a sleek beauty moving effortless through the streets. I scrap it leaving the drive focus. Gas prices rise, my beauty demands more money. I loved her she was beautiful but the sacrifices she demands and the gratification she no monthlong gives is it worth it anymore?I need something to make me feel alive; I need a something, but what? Where do they come from, this glorious beauty I need? An sell calls out a price, suddenly I know. There she is running so cleanly. Five hundred a thousand, for double that and she is mine. I want her I need her I?ve found her I own her. The auction it had what I needed. Such power, such love, it burn never end. She will serve me, I will love her I will feed her and give her life and in return she shall give me mine. My baby she gives me life. I jump in and start that engine and my heart races. I gun her take up the street the engine races, I feel so alive. I make a turn; I down shift, a grinding escapes from the chassis. My heart drops, my love what is wrong? I cadency on the gas; the response is slow, what is wrong? The love I had for her is leaving.
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She has betrayed me; she is letting me down, my baby what happened?The feeling I get from exercise a car can?t be beat. It is stimulating it gets me high like nothing else. I love the way a car looks the way it moves the way sounds and smells. But as my baby gets older she starts trying to leave me. She is no long sleek and beautiful. No longer does she attract stares and gasps from people I pass by. Slowly my love turns to hate. I hate this punt of crap this rusted pile of scrap metal and bolts. It fundamentally boils down to this, I find her I love her I drive her I am alive and then the handicap the hate seeps in, my beauty?Junk her. No External Sources enlist If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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