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My silly little stealing confession

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Offline Harare Metro Kid

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My silly little stealing confession
« on: April 30, 2015, 07:44:20 PM »
I'm 16 years old and I have a very big mental
problem. It started when I was 14, so I was
young and of course, naive. I had this lust for
excitement but I didn't know how to receive or
have fun since I was a lonely idiot with nothing
but low self esteem and bad grades. I noticed
that everyone around me had IPhones and
Playstations and crap of the sort, and all i had
was a gamecube with shitty outdated games. I
lusted for more. And no, before you say anything
bad, I wasn't a bad kid. Sure I would get
grounded here and there for leaving the milk out
and stuff like that, but I wasn't bad.
That being said, I had to think of ways to quench
my thirst for excitement and adventure. So I stole.
I stole very small things at the time, batteries,
board erasers, pencils, stuff of the sort. Then it
turned to bigger things, like drawing pads, pencil
holding boxes, and shit like that.
Then I stole expensive stuff. Rings, money,
wallets, so much shit, and what was horrible is
that I acted like a kid who was respectful, I said
please, thank you, sorry, etc, and I did not mean
any of it. I hated EVERYONE and did not care if I
stole a dollar from them or a fucking thousand.
I kept stealing for years and I never got caught. I
did all the things to not get caught, I waited until
no one saw, I left no prints, no fucking evidence
for it to be traced to me, and the fact that I acted
nice and shit made it better.
Skip forward just a week ago. I stole about 50
fucking dollars from a nice and pretty girl. I hate
myself for it. I want to see myself go to hell.
She's so fucking destroyed, but I can't seem to
stop laughing because of it. It get's funnier after
every tear. But I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't. I
should give it back. But I won't, and I don't know
why.
Most of my stories are imaginery for the love of writing.

 

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Last post April 21, 2015, 06:16:18 PM
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