This is not a title.

I could have stayed in a good life, now i'm a homeless, bitter b*****d.

While stupid people annoy the living hell out of me, they’re a gift from god (or whatever deity you chose.) They allow the world to resemble a playground used exclusively by those who use their head for more than a hat rack. Perhaps if things had gone differently throughout the course of my life, I’d be some regal, heroic political prodigy. Sadly, life tends to kick you in the foulest of places, while you’re writhing from the previous blow. Therefore, I am, and always will be, the bitterest of b******s.

 

In a way, I’ve always wanted this life. It never gets boring, forces self-dependance, and allows a challenge. Pushing my limits is what I do best; to some, that’s amazing. To myself, constantly advancing on the thresholds of my ability is rather pathetic; It simply means that I suck.

 

It’s what my mum always taught me, to push myself when it’s hard; nesscasary; It’ll  be easier in the long brun. I must agree, in all honesty, despite the s**t that heffer has put me through.

 

Take, for instance, this s****y little house I’m breaking into. Through intense trainning, observation and whatnot, I know the family is not in the house for a week or so. They left their lights on a timer, which is rather clever for the average Joe, but not clever enough. They turn off at the incorrect time. Ordinarily, the family shuts off all lights around eleven P.M. The timer shuts them off at around eight P.M. on the dot. They might have fooled me if they set it to cut off a few minutes into the hour, but right on the dot? Absurd.

 

Plus, their is a large pile of dirt and muck by their garage door. Had the family been present, then the rubbish would at least have gaps due to tires running between it; if not cleaned up all together.

 

Now here I am, mohawk tied back lazily, grimy hands covered with cloth gloves, attempting to find an unlocked window or door before I go in gung-ho with the lock pick. Viola! They never fail to leave the bathroom window unlocked. Personally, I find that to be odd, for of all windows, that would certainly be the first I latched shut. Wouldn’t want anyone waltzing in whilst i’m showering, oi?

Swiftly, carefully, I do a quick run through of the house, making sure the area is devoid of all life and cameras. Nothing. Happy with my success, I trot to the shower room, leave the lights off, and strip. The water falls softly and I step in, only to jump back out urgently with a muffled squeal. Cold water. I always forget to wait. I despise cold water. Once the shower heats up I step back in and allow myself the hard earned pleasure of a warm bathing. After I finish I dry myself off with a towel found under the sink, and proceed to dry the shower walls and floor as well. From there, I toss my clothes and towel into the washing machine, and find some plentiful food to fill myself up on while I wait, using caution to not leave anything that would give away my presence. Then I throw the laundry into the dryer, ignoring the lint filter inspite of my urges to clear it out, and wait patently, dozing off until the buzzer sounds. I creep out of the window, just as sliently as I entered.

 

That’s how my life works. Get in, do what I need, clean up, and run. However pathetic it is, I look like just your ordinary punk. A scrawny white kid with a mohawk and filthy clothes may cause the occasional glance, but nothing more. In the event I do make a mistake, I just a teenager going through a phase, they’ll simply let me walk. Never have I entered a situation I couldn’t talk my way out of, and in the event my words fail, I can gurrantee that outrunning my pursuers wouldn’t take much of my energy. Unless Nicholas Angel is on my a*s, It’s highly unlikely that I’ll be caught.

 

Now comes the part in your common, drabbling piece of trash most call stories when the main idea of the story is stated. Sucks for you, I’m not good with plot, and well, I’m homeless and a teenager. I can tell you intresting stories, there is very little I can teach you with symbols and metaphors. You must experience life to have life experience. Extremely simple, yet I promise you, 90% of the population doesn’t quite grasp the concept. Hell, I’m sure I’m included.