I am a master thief. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at me, nor my possessions. My luxury items are all bought with my heavy labour, office chair-sitting tech job. The thievery I get up to is wholly creative. It is portraying my writing and music as a reflection of my talent. But you see, it was all stolen. I stole it all.
I make music and spam it around, gathering validation by the bucketloads. Oh djee, this is pretty good, Simon. Thanks. That's what I do it for, the validation. Through thievery and manipulation. But you'd be repelled seeing what went into it. I take art, strap it on the table and watch it scream as I shed its layers. I reassemble it as my own bloody artwork and put it on display without a second thought. A bloody thief. Nice.
I just read some Keret and feel inspired, I love that guy. Maybe my next blog post will be his legacy. The maimed, scarred remains of a beautiful short story. And you'd better validate it!