To write a book???

I once told myself that I'd labor to the ends of the earth for truth, freedom, happiness, wealth, comfort and love. I also told myself; swore on it even, that I'd never stop trying to get them till I died.

I was kid then.

How time flies.

It didn't take me long to realize that I wasn't going to get my desires. Not in this life. And probably not the next.

You see, I was born in a sleepy farming village on the outskirts of Trenia, the 5th child of a man who had too little sense and an too large an appetite for alcohol. For him life was about eating, drinking and birthing children he couldn't care for.

And he loved every single bit of his mindless exuberance.

My family lived in the deepest depths of poverty, my siblings and I got our meals from petty thieving; we stole from the neighbors, from unwary travellers, we stole from soldiers and we stole from each other.

This baseless existence of continuous need further cemented my desires, which stoked the fires of my greed and sealed my fate.

How does the thieving son of a wretched family attain freedom, happiness, wealth, love and truth??

He doesn't.

Without education, socially acceptable skills or obscene amounts of good fortune it just couldn't happen.

My father owed so much ( I don't know the idiots that kept lending to him) that my entire family was faced with the possibility of slavery to erase his debts.

An unpleasant prospect, if you'll agree with me and one I didn't look forward to so I fled from home.

I deserted the bleakness that surrounded my origins and set out to seek my desires. I was young, hopeful and ultimately foolish.

Now I scribble my story from the wrong side of the dungeon walls.

..................
So I've been gone a while now and i'm making a brief stop to post this see the response and consider my options on the story, let's get some upvotes and comments.