My name is Ben. I’m fifty-one, and I am a thief.
I’ve been stealing for as long as I can remember.
Just another thing to love about me.
I steal.
Crime isn’t that complicated
People steal because taking something gives them something.
There are some things, child, that you should steal
That you must steal
if you have enough love and courage in your heart.
Stealing is sometimes a moral imperative.
‘Stealing’ is such an ugly word.
‘Presumptuous Sharing’
‘Prolonged Borrowing’
A library book without a due date.
Pap always said it warn’t no harm to borrow things if you was meaning to pay them back some time
We are all feeding from each other, all the time, every day.
The Self is not a gift that one can give another
Rather, it is a thief’s relic we must take for ourselves to someday be Our Selves.
When I was not ready to be myself, I stole My Self from others.
Most people, in my opinion, steal much of what they are
If we didn’t, what poor items we would be.
There doesn’t have to be a right side and a wrong side.
Both sides can be right
Both sides can be wrong.
I took what I wanted.
Needed.
Would you begrudge me stealing bread that I might live?
Stealers, keepers.
So, I revisited this poem today, and the line, “When I was not ready to be myself, I stole My Self from others.” hit me. Basically my first 20 years of life were like that.
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