A Vagrant’s Story of Light

i am fifty eight years antique. my existence has taken a wrong flip. altogether my own fault.

it is not smooth to start from the beginning, proper from the lowest, so you must have real strong muscular tissues to get that proper, however god in you could do it. my terrible choices made me actually grow to be on the streets for two and a 1/2 years, and now not because of alcohol or capsules.

simply once I needed to start living on the streets, it started raining one night time and it turned into as if the flood had come again. i had no blankets. i was soaked to the skin. no person desired to assist me, not the church, now not people, even though i were part of a cellular group. no person even provided me a loaf of bread.

so i lived with the road humans. what i noticed whilst living amongst them broke my coronary heart. happily, i did no longer fall into that cycle of drinking and forgetting the whole lot.

ordinary human beings emerge as irritated at them for begging simply to shop for a bottle of something, but the hours drag if the day holds no potentialities.


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