O-Trap;1506733 wrote:If it's a beautiful story, then the details wouldn't be boring.
Hell, if it's silver screen-worthy, then the details had better not be boring.
Do indulge us, if you would.
If you must know then I shall let it be known.
More than a decade ago I was sent to Vienna to study scripture.
My adventurous spirit made me one weekend board a train to Budapest without any money or passport.
By fate I befriended the conductor and rode in front with him listening to his stories through the night.
He gave me some money for food when we arrived in Budapest in the morning.
I roamed the city and by night I no longer had any more money.
At the train station there was a group of british backpackers sleeping and I stole the walkman from one of the guys, a dirty looking fellow with dreadlocks.
I never liked dreadlocks on white people so I didn't feel bad about stealing his walkman.
He had a tape with the most amazing album I had ever heard: Joi's "One and One is One".
My blood started popping like the bubbles in a fizzy drink and I got really cheerful from listening to the music.
Outside the train station a guy had left his motorcycle running, an old Czech vehicle with a sidewagon.
Tripping hard from the music I "borrowed" his motorcycle and went joy-riding around the city.
Looking like I do combined with the reckless speeding and lack of respect for traffic lights I quickly got a dozen or so police cars chasing me.
It suited the music of Joi but once the tape ended I realized I was in trouble.
I drove at high speed off a bridge and into the Danube river and escaped by floating down the river.
The water was comfortable and after a while I was outside the city next to a gypsy camp.
One of the old gypsy women spotted me in the water and threw me a rope and pulled me to shore.
The gipsies welcomed me with open arms into their camp and gave me delicious food and dry clothes.
Out of a wooden carriage the most beautiful woman I had ever seen stepped out to join us.
It was like being bathed in a golden light seeing her and I knew that she would be my wife.
Her name was Esmeraldina and she did indeed become my wife the very next week.
She was 13 and I was 17.
This is what she looked like then:
I asked her father for her hand that same night. He had one of the old women study my palm upon which I got the deepest blessing.
They also told me many other things about my destiny in life and they seemed very pleased to have me amongst them.
If such a thing as a previous life exists there must have been some connection from the past amongst us.
I ended up staying for 3 years with her tribe traveling all around Europe.
Me and Esmi are still married and have 4 children together. Including one who's artwork I have previously posted on here before.
