i was out with some friends tonight and we talked about the beautiful art of thievery.
some steal lines and words. our writer friends do. y’know, the ones who write lyrics… they steal our words. they sit there listening to us speak and before we know it they are jotting something down and next time you see them they are singing their new single with a few of your lines. :) and you smile. or grin. or roll your eyes.
some steal art. our art appreciator friends do. y’ know, the ones that move so fast and quietly…one minute you’re talking about the art on the wall and before you know it, you turn around to see your friend and she’s gone. so you turn back to look at the wall and the piece is gone. and you don’t hear from them for a year or so…. Until you invite them to another exhibition. :) and you smile with eyes wide open.
some steal money. and we’ll leave that comment hang on its own for a while. but you still smile. :)
some steal ideas. and well, that makes us cry a little. fuckers.
i heard my friend tell someone : “in my life , i always thought that i was the one meeting interesting people. i never thought i was part of the the interesting ones….”
i looked at her and she winked at me. she borrowed that line from me. she had just heard me say that to someone as a reply to his “hey, “bob”, i want you to meet Laura. she’s one of the good ones i was telling you about. and we’ll hang on to her. an interesting girl all the way around…” and i replied, well…my line up there.
in my life i always want to feel that i have the tools to be sensitive to what others are feeling. i won’t be liked by everyone nor expect to attract everyone , and that’s okay. but for the ones i do attract, i want to be grounded enough to understand that this attraction won’t last forever, but i want to be floating long enough to forget the preceding.
some steal hearts. and well, what can you do ? nothing. but there are days when you feel like you have little electricians inside your stomach and chest area rewiring things and it burns and it stings a little. and other times you feel as if you’re holding your breath waiting for someone to hit you in the gut. waiting there with your mouth a little open. or biting your lip…never exhaling. and we don’t smile because we forget that , too. i think that’s more than a broken heart. it’s a wrecked body and spirit.
when i listen to the people in my life and strangers…i get inspired. i want to take pictures and steal their moments. i feel guilty. but i do it anyway. their moments will remind me of what i felt at that time. some fotos are shared but others i keep just for me. i hide when i look at them. a little ashamed of taking the picture or a little ashamed of my feelings and thoughts at that moment.
last night…as i talked and walked with my friends, I found myself saying…
“it’s easy to steal. but, it’s hard to live with yourself after you’ve done it. i imagine.”
if you borrow something from me and don’t return it or forget to mention it, borrow it with purpose… and make it better.
but if i steal something, i will do it well. rename it, reinvent it and claim it and own it. so better be careful. :))
some people steal your mind. and… then… well , you’re fucked. totally fucked….as in….you’ll be like you’re in a prison.
what would YOU steal?
if we had 5 things to steal,
3-steal a few people. useful people.
4-steal laundry detergent (i’m out again!!!)
so… what would YOU steal?
So... Nothing. That's it.