theft – Ivy

Well now. I am not the sort of person who gets jollies out of belittling people on the Internet, so I’ll tread lightly here.

I decide to check tumblr while I’m on my weekend away (I’m having a lovely time!) and my good “ladyfriend” (I love that phrase) myanonymouslair has sent me a message saying apparently one of my posts has been just sort of nabbed. To which I was like, “what’s all this about?” So, I look at her tumblr.

She’s made this post and then I notice a message from the culprit telling my lady myanonymouslair that she has no respect. And so my upset really more concerns the fact that you’ve called my friend disrespectful, laiks-velkas.

Really ironically, I might add. Since, um, you know, you sort of disrespected me here by taking my words/life experience and pretending it was your own. Okay, okay, so the Internet is everyone’s playground. This is fair. But, come on, let’s get real here. You just randomly took an excerpt from my sex life and either pretended it was a product of your own creativity or that it was, I don’t know, your sex life.

Brass tacks: You couldn’t handle it if you had it. But I’m flattered that you pretended that you did.

<3, Ivy

PS: Good thing SG’s not on tumblr, or his ego would be through the roof over someone pretending they’re messing around with him.

laiks-velkas:

The Southern Gentleman decided to help me pick out my outfit for the night.

“It’s great,” he said as he leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. “But what’s under the shirt?”

I shrugged, “a bra.”

He smiled, “and what’s under the bra?”

“My…” I rolled my eyes, “ugh, you’re such a child.” I pulled my shirt and bra up, showing him my breasts.

“Good girl,” he grinned.

I think we all are, in our own ways, thieves. Of course, we all have different methods, different motivations, different spoils. Some of us are more overt than others. Some steal things we can line up on our mantles, others prefer taking more intangible things. We like to loot each other, to pull apart each others’ fabrics for found objects we can tuck away as if they are our own.

At the root of our nature is selfishness. We’re all wide eyes and outstretched arms and grasping fingers when you boil us down at a high enough temperature and strip off the plastic of basic interactions. We’re thieves, complete and total kleptomaniacs who take because to bring something into us makes it a part of us. We’re emotional hoarders who pile up people and moments in the cellars of whatever organ you attribute to attachment until we’ve cluttered it to fire-hazard potential. And there is no way of sorting it into piles and clearing it away because it’s become, at some very basic level, ours.

And so we steal each others’ hearts and we’re taken with each other and we become highwaymen on each others’ paths who wait for the sound of wheels. I’m not saying that we’re merciless or always harmful. I’m just saying that we’re thieves. And we take. Because that’s what thieves do.