Believing in Past Lives: A Thief's Tale from Versailles
Do you believe in past lives? If so, who was your past life, and what did you do for a living?
Let me take you back to mid-18th century France, to the grand and opulent city of Paris and its extravagantly decorated palace, Versailles. In this fateful era, I lived a life that was both glamorous and treacherous. My name was Jean-Pierre, a thief and a professional con artist.
Early Life and Beginnings
My life started rather tragically. I was born illegitimately to a prostitute and her john. The situation was dire, and I was left to the mercy of the streets. In the middle of the night, I was abandoned at the doorstep of a kindly woman who, while she took me in temporarily, soon realized that I was not the safe and well-taken-care-of child she had imagined. Instead, I was harshly abused and had to learn how to con my way through life at a very young age, around 9 to 12 years old. I was beaten daily and, on some occasions, even beaten to unconsciousness due to my misbehavior.
At the tender age of 15, I ran away from the orphanage and began to beg and steal for my living. It was a harsh beginning, but it was a start. One year later, at age 16, fortune (or perhaps fate) brought me into contact with my first princess. She was soon to be married to a famous Duke, and I successfully condescended her, stealing money and jewelry while she slept.
The Life of an Itinerant Thief
My success in these early pickings did not last forever. The high authorities began to hunt me down as a highly wanted fugitive for my numerous felonies and property crimes. Ironically, I never hurt or killed anyone. However, the number of crimes I committed was of such a nature that brought me to the forefront of the authorities' radar.
Ultimately, my run of luck came to an end. Having contracted syphilis, I lived a solitary and decrepit life in the woods of Southern France, surviving off of streams, nuts, berries, and, in brief periods, killing small animals for sustenance. For the last three months of my life, I lived in a cabin with no heat, no water, and no septic, suffering from a severe fever that made mobility almost impossible. Eventually, I died in this wretched state, with my best friend, a sailor, only finding me weeks after my death. I was buried in the poor people's cemetery in Versailles, France.
The Enduring Legacy of a Thief
Throughout my life, I was an artist, and I even had a few canvases and artwork paintings in the cabin. My love for art perhaps provided a small solace in the darkness of my life. I occasionally picked up rich women, or sometimes any pretty woman, as ships from the docks would often have drinking parties, and I was never one to miss such an opportunity.
Many might argue that my life choices were misguided, but I lived by my rules and embraced a life that was both thrilling and dangerous. To those who skeptics, keep your criticisms to yourself! We are all just souls trying to make sense of this mysterious universe.
In conclusion, whether you believe in past lives or not, the tale of Jean-Pierre from Versailles paints a vivid picture of a life steeped in intrigue, danger, and artistic pursuits. This is just one among many tales that remind us of the resilience of the human spirit, regardless of the circumstances.