Misery

It seems that my life needed to give me a reality check to balance it first and then to counter-balance so that I feel bad. A year of poverty, despair and aimless wandering is not letting me forget its bitterness. I spent the entire afternoon and evening shuttling between traffic police chowkies, municipal garages and police stations trying to find my scooter. But it’s still missing. Nobody knows why it was taken.

The careless security guard at the apartment building says that it was my mistake not to remind him and the rest of the security guards that the scooter was mine. They said that people in the apartment building have been wondering whose vehicle it was because it was in such a shabby condition. Since no one had taken any responsibility for the vehicle, they had presumed that it was junk and had let the towing guys take it away.

I agree that I have not used it for the last 6 months or so. I didn’t have money to buy fuel. I didn’t have money to eat, remember! How could I waste money on expensive petrol? Because I was not using it, it grew dirty and obviously I didn’t bother to clean it and make it look owned. Fuck! I was planning to save some money up from a couple of months at work and then spend it on the scooter to get it back up and running.

I feel bad. I feel bad for letting this happen, for letting my life drift away, for letting poverty in, for being optimistic and ambitious to let myself do what I did.