Today I spring cleaned the fuck out of my room as my best friend sat studying, tweaked on Adderall. It was a beautiful day here on Otterbein's campus. We were joking around about this blog, and the place I want to take it. To really open people's eyes to the world besides the one of OCF and honors fraternities.
I want to discuss tonight the varying degrees of stealing. This was brought about by the conversation that began when I was piling clothes I want to throw out and clothes I wanted to donate, and laughed when I realized I was donating a pair of pants I stole from a JCPenny's not too long ago. I had laughed to myself and asked my friend if I was some sick version of Robin Hood. Then we began to reminisce about the time we stole a Christmas tree from Meijer for Christmas last year.
I believe there are varying degrees of stealing when one shouldn't entirely feel too morally corrupt. The fact still remains though that I'm morally corrupt for even thinking any degree of stealing is ok. And quite a few of my friends think it's ok. Again reflecting the counterculture that flourishes at Otterbein.
Firstly, there is the act of stealing from a roommate. Food, clothes, makeup, alcohol. In my house, my roommates flip the fuck out should a teense bit of their butter be taken without warning. Or a swig of their milk should be taken without offering to buy an entire carton as repayment. Who doesn't take a little shlip here and there from their roommate? Is there true harm in it? I believe alcohol is like precious stones or gold though. Should someone take anyone else's alcohol, chopping off a hand as shouldn't be too far from a viable form of punishment. I think this is because I'd rather spend money on alcohol over food. Does this make me an alcoholic?
Following the idea of stealing alcohol, I know many an acquaintance who have taken a bottle of wine or liquor from the local Kroger. I myself have perfected the art. I also have taken food while grocery shopping. Last winter my ex and I stole steak and made a delicious steak and eggs lunch over a couple old Keystone, discovered from the party before. Should I feel guilty? Should my acquaintances feel guilty as well? My answer is: hardly. I'm a poor college kid, one of decent sized percentage of students who probably have had a parent sell off their left limb on the black market so there child can attend this God forsaken place. Yes, I work part time, but that money usually goes to my house and the retardly high rent I pay. Stealing alcohol? I give no fucks about the guilt I should technically feel should I be a normal member of society. But I am not a normal member of society, and neither are my friends. We steal from Kroger without a blink of an eye, a bead of sweat, we even have the brass balls to look into the camera and give a smile, shit we could even wave. Sucks to suck, you corporate fucks.
My final analysis of stealing is that of stealing valuables from friends. This is the part where my nearly disintegrated morals manage to creep up from the black pit that was my conscious, which has slowly disappeared over the three years I have attended this school. Stealing from friends, that is simply fucked up. Money, watches, jewelry, girlfriends, boyfriends. Here, your friends are your family. Most of my friends are similar upbringings like me; families that put the fun in dysfunctional; an emotionally absent father, a brother that has bought you alcohol and/or drugs since you were thirteen. You go to college, probably not knowing more than a handful of people, not including the peers you met on the Otterbein College freshman class Facebook pages. You lose your mind your freshman year, get arrested a few times, and feel the pressure from your parents to do well because the father or mother that sold their left limb for you to attend this school cries every night about the arm or leg that used to be. Your sisters, brothers, freshman roommate, they become your true family. Stealing from them is like stealing from yourself. You grow together, black out on Friday nights together, trip your balls off on acid on Saturday nights together. I have no respect for those who have stolen from their friends. Food? Sure. Alcohol? Prepare to lose a hand. Money or other valuables? You should probably just leave this school. There is no hope for your soul, for even though I may have sunk to the lower end of the moral cesspool, I would never do such a thing. Neither should you, readers.
Well this concludes my soap box on the varying degrees of stealing. Study hard, I know Mondays suck. Just think though, spring break is on the horizon.
Good evening readers.
xoxo TO
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