A Short Story On Music, Theft, Poverty And Luck

A Short Story On Music, Theft, Poverty And Luck
Sitting here listening to some awesome music, seems like the best songs ever are playing over and over again. Writing a bunch of random words as they come out of my mind, don't know if they make sense since the typing speed nearly aligns with the speed at which the words come out.

Love writing such posts, improves my focus, readers might not care enough to read what I have to share, that's how life is I guess, nobody around me right now, the loneliness lingers as I type these words out, the tears are held inside my eyes, my solitude is becoming a huge burden to bear.

Life's not as beautiful as it initially seemed, things don't seem to be going my way, finding it tough to make ends meet, no roof to call my own, living in a rented apartment, my girlfriend left me high and dry just when I needed her the most, no one else answers my friendship requests, the competition has increased on social networking sites, thirty guys for every girl it seems, what a bunch of unfair nonsense.

Trying my best to write out something that makes sense using just the few minutes I have remaining right now, my increasing sadness must be taken care off, else it might not end up being a restful night, days have been restless mostly, very little sleep during the nights, more winks and open eyes, nightmares come while I'm awake, cannot even daydream about something pleasant, dragons and demons fill up my mind, just seems like nothing's going my way.

Stand near the window, look outside, the coffee shop opposite my home is buzzing with activity, seems like everyone's got something to do, I'm the only one that's useless and without anything constructive to do.

Supper's not happening, there are just a few bucks left in my wallet, got to manage some money quickly, rob someone that walks along on the empty streets tonight, desperate times call for desperate measures, got to do something bigger so that life's a whole lot easier, must die famous or die trying, I'm not a loser, nor a failure, just want to live a better life, don't want to die young, but seems like there's no future for me beyond this month.

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Light a candle in the darkness of my room, spend most of my time pondering in the dark, feels a bit more comforting with the moving cars outside, the busy road below my apartment building is my best friend, just stand near the window, look down below, and watch the crazy world go by.

Don't know which way to go with this one, hasn't been my destiny to receive the fame and fortune that I deserved, worked so hard, put in the thousands of hours, some people say mastery comes with loads of practice, I've been sitting here writing all the time, no one cares enough to even drop by, and the rare one that comes along leaves since this isn't like their typical song.

Feel like riding a wild Arabian horse in the open country, was born in a place that seems like a thousand miles away, the village life wasn't captivating me enough, so hitched a ride to the city of dreams, been dreaming all along so the tagline holds true quite literally.

I didn't care much about what people said or thought about whatever I had to say but now I'd love for someone to just say something right now, my loneliness is killing me, please say something, move back to your moment of darkness, imagine what it was like to be all alone, no one to talk to or listen to what you had to say, those lonely moments where even a guest like boredom would be welcomed inside your heart.

Wish I could live the life of a king, sitting on a throne with gorgeous mistresses popping grapes into my month, the endless glasses of red wine would make me sick, but still I'd love to live the high life in the castle of my dreams, life's pathetic in reality, I'm like a dying soldier who left for battle on the same day he got married to his beautiful wife.

The mountains of Kashmir seem inviting, as I open the window to a new dream inside my brain, the impatient soul has been reaching out to me, don't know whether to open the communication lines, the restless heart aches for real company, not my own shadows on this dark night in the city of dreams and opportunity.

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So silent all day around here, just the cars driving by below, my pet parrot lies there stinking, she took her last breath two weeks ago, didn't feel like burying her, since she is the only soul that's company, the can of olives lie there open, relished a few of them but their taste was horridly sour, my mother sent them as a birthday gift, my dad sent me a bottle of Vodka, gulped it down neat on the very first day, kept the bottle turned upside down with the cap on, the last few drops I'm saving for a better day.

Sometimes a ghost drops by, might have been living here before me, can't see her clearly, just the foggy shadow of a lonely damsel, she cries so bitterly, would rather kill myself than hear her cries, my fate is clear if I am to follow in her footsteps, death ain't the answer but it sure seems like it is the right one, right here, right now, as I lay down on my hard mattress that lies on the dirty floor.

The cellphone that I type these words on was my latest theft while I walked by the coffee shop below, you see them young fools leave their smartphones in the washrooms, and I creep inside to collect them once each day on Friday nights and early on Saturday mornings, them rich ones are sloshed on weekend nights, forget what goes where, easy pickings for the patient thief, that would be me.

My life's gloomy no doubt, these random writings help overcome some of my sadness, but the loneliness persists, feel guilt sometimes for the way I make my money, robbing phones and wallets that were left behind by drunken teens, found a quotation card inside the last wallet I picked, read that "less is more", well it certainly is in my case, less material goods, less money, nobody for company but the lady ghost, life's a piece of garbage that even the hungry vagabond doesn't wanna go through.

I got to watch my tongue, been letting out too much information that could ruin my reputation, might also get my lousy ass turned over to the cops, who knows who might read this today, don't care who reads this tomorrow, since I might not be there then, my spirit might marry the angel that haunts this floor, don't know why she cries, wish I knew, may have been taken far before her time, she seems young.

I'd rather have company right now, even if I'd have to surrender my ears for it, lonely days are never easy, it's the nights that spin me out of control, been working on a recipe of my own, squashed those sour olives in the can, turned them into a yucky chutney, added some sugar I stole from the coffee shop, poured some tap water into it, mixed it good, left the liquid mix to ferment by the open window, been trying to make some alcohol, one that's free flowing and doesn't cost me any money.

It's late Afternoon here but it feels like it's night, the darkness in this little apartment makes me feel weird during the day, I've been working hard on not letting the thoughts of yesterday occupy my mind today, failed horribly, all I can think of right now is the past, broken relationships, late night parties, 5 day weekends, one night stands, those sweet teenage years, how I wish I could be a kid again, no responsibilities, no worries, no cares, now my life's plight is worse than a powerful dynamite about to explode.

Maybe I'm a mute since I cannot lie, the words I type out resonate with honesty, been sharing my lonesome life story, been stuck in this little room, collected a bucket of snow last night, pounded on it to get pure water, wanted something cool to drink, don't have a refrigerator out here, no money to pay the rent, the borrowed money my mom gave me is over.

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The last wallet I stole hurt my conscience, was 10 days ago, not much money inside, guess the drunken guy that left it behind had squandered it all at a party, left me the few dollars to enjoy, promised never to steal again, wishful thinking on a hungry stomach, but lived up to my vow until yesterday, couldn't stop myself from stealing, my throat was dry, stomach was pounding, went down below to the coffee shop, ordered a cup of cappuccino, sat at my usual table near the toilet.

Had a sip, looked around and watched some happy faces, waited for a drunken boy to visit my favorite room, luck favored me quickly, a teenage loner struggled to enter the door of the washroom, I couldn't watch him struggle, stood up, opened the door for him to walk through, discreetly followed him from behind.

I picked his wallet while he stood there peeing, life is so cruel for the drunk guys on a Friday night, ran out the washroom, dropped the last Dollar from my pocket onto my table, and hurried out the coffee shop, my cup of coffee lay there half drunk, took the stairs while wearing a large smile on my face, was hoping for a prized catch as I reached my apartment door, jumped onto my waiting mattress, opened the purse to inspect the spoils of the night, nothing but a few nickels and a dime, and a freaking phone number.

They say "No pains, no gains", what a lousy bunch of liars them poets are, whoever wrote this quote was a hard pressed loser, out to ruin many other lives, succeeded to, so much pains to pick a pocket, but ended up with nothing but a number, another lousy and lonely night stared before me, drank a glass of the fermented olive juice, my taste buds howled, who cares about it anyway.

Don't know whether anyone's gonna read this, better to be blind than to follow my ugly story, might seem like a one way street to hell, endless misery on weekend nights, followed up by restless loneliness on weekdays, what's to happen in a lifetime happens with me in a week, complaining isn't my cup of tea, but now it's my favorite drink.

I'm pawning away my liberty now, begging the solitary reader for a few bucks, need the money for my survival, no response comes my way, shooting arrows at invisible targets, shall befriend the devil if I have to, got to straighten my life for a change, lay here shamelessly on the floor, the darkness of the night sky illuminates my room, I lay there staring out the window.

The hand of the devil knocks at my door, I live to see another ruthless day, what's for breakfast I wonder, the stale fish was eaten three nights ago, stood there scratching my ass, looked around my shabby room, it's dark in the morning, perhaps my eyes are deceiving me.

Took a quick look outside my window, the blue sky above me, seems like Winter when it's Summer, feeling feeble, dying of hunger, welcome to life in the big city, where's my dead parrot, is she safe to eat, check my pockets, find two sachets of sugar, tear them open, pour them in my waiting mouth, breakfast is done, now on to the rest of the day.

Was a fighter long ago, now I beg for mercy to the nobodies that tolerate me, walked into the tiny loo in my stinking apartment, took a "hurried" crap, no tissue paper to wipe my ass, shook my head in silence, pulled up my worn out jeans, stepped outside my door, climbed down the stairs in silence, headed to the nearby park, needed a thousand breaths of clean fresh air, the little place that I call home was now a sty of a donkey suffering from diarrhea, wanted to clear my mind up too, sat there on the park bench, stared blankly at the trees before me, what a beautiful day this is, should probably come by here more often, maybe I should have been more patient, it's best to praise a wonderful day when it turns to night, I was a tad too hasty, and soon was to pay the price.

Stood up tall, feeling better, ventured back to my apartment, climbed the stairs while whistling a happier tune, reached my floor, took out my keys to open the door, to my surprise the door was wide open, my stuff piled up neatly in the corner, a note lay on top of them boxes, "clear out buddy, find another shelter".

Life's been tough for me lately, seems like the last nail was hammered into the coffin, didn't know where to go now, heading back home to my mom's cove would have been the right thing to do, but for me the struggles were hurdles to jump over, felt like drowning myself in the river, but decided to see this one through.

Took my stuff, walked out the door, head held high, not letting my pride go down, not gonna make the world see me cry, crawled back to the same park bench, rested there for a "long" while, had the stolen wallet from the previous night, an inner voice called out to me, "dial the number on that piece of paper" it said, had a few coins in my pocket, and tons of hope on my sleeve.

Walked up to the phone booth, stepped inside, dialed that number, what was I gonna say, who was about to answer my call, didn't know, but felt a surge of confidence come over me, where did this come from, hadn't a clue, a female's voice on the other end, told her that I had found a wallet in the restroom of a coffee shop, couldn't think of anything else to say, she said that she'd come over and pick it up, asked me where I was, told her I was at the community park, she asked me my name and wrote down the exact address, for the first time in a long, long while someone asked me my name, was on cloud nine as I walked back to the park bench.

Savio DSilva
Savio DSilva
Audio Book Creator. Life Coach. Soft Skills Trainer. Counselor.
Meditation Practitioner. Food Technologist. Frugal Marketer.

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Published: October 26th 2017.

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