I Am A Thief
Ghost be damned, I’m living.
I’m living and loving it, and every day it gets easier to push the ghost from my heart. Sadly, I’m not naïve enough to think this fight is over; I’ve merely won the battle.
I felt so much love this week. To each and every one of you reading this now, and to those thoughtful enough to take the time to stop in each day and comment on a poem, watch a film, or simply share/reblog/retweet some other small piece of my heart, thank you.
Those two words do not suffice in communicating how much it means every time I hear that beautiful sound from my pocket, the WordPress notification bell, and I have the joy of sharing an intimate moment with another beautiful soul.
THANK YOU. MERCI BEAUCOUP. Ευχαριστώ πολύ. VIELEN DANK! GRAZIE MILLE. 非常感谢. MUCHAS GRACIAS. どうもありがとうございました. Большое спасибо.
The fog is clearing. I’ve found the surface. I’m flying with the swarm, and it’s lovely.
Yesterday I stepped onto an alien planet. Imagine my surprise when I turned and saw a familiar face! My fall back to earth was so swift I thought I might not survive, might be crushed from the gravity, the pressure, but I wasn’t. I’m alive, and this morning I’m excited to be here and to be stealing this moment from you.
Because that’s what this is, this little exchange of energy we have going right now. You’re giving me precious seconds, minutes of your life, moments you will never get back, and I’m stealing every single one of them I can get my hands on.
I A M A T H I E F .
Faceless and graceful I move, swift and silent, snatching moments and memories to keep as my own. Collecting them, preserving them, cherishing them. This is my fuel, my food, the energy I need to survive. These moments keep me going, give me strength, reinvigorate and rejuvenate my spirit. This is my fountain of youth, my sorcerer’s stone. This moment will keep me young, immortal even, and worst of all no one can ever get them back.
You’ve fallen victim to my game, stumbled innocent into my trap.
But not to worry, with you. Be at peace. I’m not stealing for stealing’s sake. I have a purpose for each and every moment I steal. I have a plan. I’m pulling moments from all of you, all over the world, and I’m weaving them together. I’m creating a beautiful monster, a frightening mosaic of memories. Tonight I will wrap myself in a blanket woven of seconds and minutes, collective hours of beauty and love, of heartbreak and pain, of sadness and despair.
Tonight I will sleep on a bed of stolen memories, and tomorrow, I’ll steal some more. And when I have enough, when my work is complete, I’ll look out at the sea of moments I’ve collected, and laugh.
This is the purpose of life: to swim in a sea of stolen moments.
So thank you.
Thank you for coming here, and adding a drop in the bucket. Every drop contains a galaxy, swimming and teeming with life. These are beyond price, beyond value.
Thank you for your time. Every single second is precious to me.
You are precious to me.
Tomorrow, if I’m lucky, perhaps I’ll steal another.
Today and every day, I love you.
Portraits of a Ghost 
That’s lovely.
People who don’t blog, could never understand the interaction with others and just how precious it is, it’s happy, sad and heartwarming to name but a few things and definitely at times a life saver.
Enjoy your moments as we the reader enjoy out time with you 🙂
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I was really touched by what you wrote, thank you back for writing it! It’s the kind of post that brings me faith in humanity. I’m happy and thankful to have discovered you and your lovely writing. It’s brought me courage and the strength to keep on walking despite the tough times I’ve had of late. I’m glad to read your posts, they always make me feel relieved and at peace for a while. From the bottom of my heart: Thank you.
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Thank you so much for sharing this with me, Lea. I can’t tell you how much it means. You are not alone. Be strong, and shine on. If you need a light, I’m never more than a message or email away.
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Reblogged this on lea claire hartley and commented:
Simply splendid, thank you J.T. Carlton. I was really touched by what you wrote, thank you back for writing it! It’s the kind of post that brings me faith in humanity. I’m happy and thankful to have discovered you and your lovely writing. It’s brought me courage and the strength to keep on walking despite the tough times I’ve had of late. I’m glad to read your posts, they always make me feel relieved and at peace for a while. From the bottom of my heart: Thank you.
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Steal away, and love you too my fellow writer. This piece was hauntingly beautiful, and masterfully done, so steal away.
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Reblogged this on BIENaija.
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Hi. Thanks so much for your recent attention to my blog… to my words, to my life.
Seems we are on a similar track. I chose to take a peek at your writing moments after sending out my poem Fellow Hungry Poets and Basking. I love the interconnectedness of the Universe and the souls on this beautiful planet. I hope you get a chance to peruse some of my older writing. I think we may come from a similar place out in the cosmos. Hhhhm. Maybe Jupiter.
Peace to you. Lovely to connect with you.
Suzanne
learningtocry.wordpress.com
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Dear J.T. Carlton,
In the above prose you wrote about the stolen moments being a blanket to wrap yourself in while sleeping tonight.
In the poem “Box” you wrote about thoughts and ideas overflowing their container and either floating you away or drowning you.
Will the stolen moments keep you aloft, maybe in midair?
Or will they be a weight pulling you down swallowing you in the middle of all those moments?
Based on the writings, poems, and prose that I have seen the stolen moments would keep you aloft floating peacefully during the night. However there are quite a few very emotional pieces out there in the blogging world. There are also quite a few internally scarred writers.
I hope you stay aloft and continue to help the fallen look up again.
Sincerely,
Sam Sutlive.
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Hey Sam, that’s a great question, and one I am somewhat sad to say I may be ill equipped to answer. Your speculation is a good one, that the feelings of affirmation I get as my own sort of reward from any artistic enterprise to which I endeavor may very well provide buoyancy during a storm, but like most creatives I live in a constantly shifting emotional sea. You may read one poem that sounds hopeful, which I wrote during a time of deep despair, and vice versa. I suppose the only way I’ll know for sure is when I come to that bridge and cross it for myself. Thanks for the question, and thanks for stopping by.
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Dear J.T. Carlton,
Sometimes It does seem like it is hard to tell what bloggers are feeling. I try to be supportive when bloggers are having a hard time but I agree it works to respond, comment and or react to posts and comments on a case by case bases.
Thank you for sharing your opinions and thoughts.
Sincerely,
Sam Sutlive.
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Thank you also for stopping by, Glad to meet another friend on a poetic journey through life.
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Is it possible to steal something that is freely given? Take them. They are yours. Thank you for being you.
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