Where the lost things live

I have to laugh, honestly, because people still assume that things get lost, just like that. How innocent, my goodness, those humans. But well, I am used to it because the same thing always happens. Sometimes I run the risk of being discovered, then I have to slow down with my mischieves. If a few people notice, it's not a big deal, but it would be a disaster if one day all of humanity wakes up from that state where they live in a way that is, let's say... not very conscious. This would finish me off! And life would be much more boring without me, believe me.

What? Who am I?

This ridiculous question almost offends me, but today I am in a good mood so I forgive you and I will even tell you a few things that you didn't know until now. I am not that bad, although I know you will think so after reading everything I am going to tell you. Or write. I don't know how these things work in the material world, especially now when I heard the people that I visited lately talking about block- something. Ah, blockchain. I have no idea, and I don't care. What I do owe you is the story about me, as I said I am in a good mood before going out to look for my next victim.

I was born on a day, which can no longer be remembered and determined exactly, in the part of the human mind where their thoughts do not reach. I am very happy there, they feed me with all the nonsense they do, sometimes it makes me a little sad to see them doing things without them realizing it although my fun is more important to me so I keep quiet and laugh a lot after my pranks. Oh, the mess I usually make for them. It is tremendous. If only you could see it, you would laugh as well.

So, my identity is not easy to determine. How do I explain it to you...? Hmm, I came to live with people to steal things from them. You know, all kinds of things without them realizing it. Somewhat intuitively, they created similar professions, they call them magicians and illusionists, who make people not notice their tricks at the time they do it, even if they are paying attention. Well, mine is something like that, but I am much better and more sophisticated. I steal all kinds of things from them, for example, umbrellas, wallets, money, houses, utensils, cards, all kinds of garments, transport tickets, glasses, pencils, keys, socks, suitcases, all these and more things that they never ever find again... Oh, suitcases are a delight to steal, you don't know the funny things I find in them. One time I found a letter inside a suitcase where important things were explained... it seems that I got them into a lot of trouble, how much fun I had, you can't imagine.

I digress. Let's continue with the list of things that I usually steal... also non-material things, for example, I steal good manners, friendly words, thoughts, reasoning, patience... I steal memory, creativity, happiness, the ability to imagine and create worlds, good intentions, care, understanding, wisdom, friendships, hope, faith, justice, empathy, attention, time, health, generosity...

Don't say you don't hate me until now! Look at all the good things that I like to steal from humans. But the truth is that sometimes good things come out of it, think - if I steal someone's health, what consequences will this have? Many times the person from whom I stole that treasure becomes more aware of things and begins to change their habits in a very systematic way, that is, they take it very seriously and in the end they heal. This inspires others around them and they also heal. And they share happiness. You see, how good I am in the end.

However, that woman whose car keys I stole last week is starting to suspect my existence. I made the mistake of being in her house for more time and stealing a knife from her too. She realized it because it was the best knife they had. I stole her sunglasses a few months ago too, but just yesterday she started wandering around and entering places where I live. I am not comfortable with that at all. Now I think I should rest a little or leave her alone so she doesn't find the place where I keep all those treasures that I was continuously stealing from humans for centuries and centuries.

Although I don't think anyone gets there. The location is protected by many labyrinths and the door is small, no one goes in there. The place where the lost things live is kept as my secret, I already said enough about my habits and purpose. I am off to have my next mischief; if you lose something... you know, could be me who visited you but don't tell anyone, please. People wouldn't believe in this story anyway, they prefer calling the things lost.