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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Fantasy · #1844837
A pirate recognizes how his “manoeuvring” have led him to “the island” he finds himself on
Photo http://bitewallpapers.com/the%20vault/safe%201/pics%20stage%201/part%203/fun/be%...

Song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mFM1CF9bqho&feature=related

Hello, hello, you are the only one I can talk to freely. It seems to me you are the only one who listens. I tried to start caring about myself so that my presence wouldn`t disturb others on this vast island. I wish it was as easy to start loving again as it was to start hating. The walls closed in each time and I am a willing prisoner. I barely ever escaped, but when I did, four eyes watched my every movement and I faced another trial yet again, which further convinced me to hate who I am.

Arrogance is but a mask when everyone is an enemy. Each time, I thought I had escaped but that`s an illusion when the stars are the bars, and one can`t breathe in space.

Society, I do not follow your breed. I diverged from your line; I left it, now it is two years behind. Yet, you follow me, you want to take me in, but its nature vs. nurture mother, and I was born rotten and cursed. I am sorry, I hope you will live long and prosper but I know that won`t happen if I am here. That`s why I left.

I have a Stradivarius in my hands, but broken, and strange. I play melodies which sound awfully wrong to you, but are so beautiful to me. My strings close in, they squeak. I try to repair it, I do. I try harder than I am motivated to, after all, no one likes my songs and that`s starting to get to me. The tools I use seem to work no more, I know only you can understand me, so I write to you alone.

The world is a scary place, especially when the people who are closest to friends hate you for everything you are and everything you do, it`s that…undemocratic hierarchy, that is so incompatible with my ideology. My nervous system is regressing in time. Things were rough then, but I was motivated to act in the play, now we have the comfort, the luxury, the money, but not the willingness to go on. This island is overwhelming, but I lost the ability to feel joy, so I don’t feel the full extent of how beautiful it is.

I was the captain of my ship, a southern one, my administration was so bad, I became the victim of my own incompetence. I am a castaway.

Message in a bottle, baby. I am sending it out to the world but I only write in languages no one understands, even the sea is so confused, that it returns my messages to me.

Signed,
The pirate who dared stealing from himself.
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