Kleptomania

Coat, scarf, hat. Little skin is exposed to the brutal, vicious cold. All i can hear is the wind, all i can feel is needles peircing my ears. My fingers are numb, my toes are freezing. People win fame and glory for venturing out into this cold, explorers climb Everest to feel this.

People walk by and stare at me oddly, they pass me and wonder what brings me out here, now, in this weather, this time of the night. I start to wonder myself, Is it really worth it? Shouldn't I just seek warmth, shelter and comfort?

I look like a reincarnation of the bell ringer of Notre Dame, bent, silent, distracted, oblivious to all. I feel like the Oracle, the world within my sight, all knowledge at my fingertips. My face is lit with an unearthly glow, light in my eyes but blind to the real world.

I'm a thief, taking what isn't mine, stealing from the poor and rich indiscriminately. I have no guilt feelings, I have no mercy. I plunder from all and enjoy the loot with no regret. Am i a sociopath? Do i belong in an asylum?

I'm a junkie searching for my fix, a predator preying on the unsecured. A parasite, a leech, a tick. I will latch onto my host and devour it, using it ungratefully until it satisfies me. I will never express thanks, never give recognition. I'm a kid and his laptop, searching for available wireless networks.