I kind of figured that once I started posting work all over the Internet I’d get plagiarized sooner or later. The other day I was having a read of other ‘Writers’ that I’ve come across since starting my wordly mission back in September.

One of the ‘Writers’ has been posting work over the past few weeks with exact phrases from some of my pieces recently featured here. I think my reaction to the scenario says a lot about who I am as an Artist so I’d like to share it with all of you, my loyal cult.

My initial reaction was laughter. I was fascinated to see my exact words slotted into someone else’s work without my permission. It sounded like I was interrupting this person who, other than instances of my own phrases, sounds nothing like me.

After the laughter came reflection time, this is the important part. Lately I’ve been so emotional that I’m walking a line of being utterly out of touch. I haven’t been meditating for two weeks, and as someone that depends on daily mediations to stay connected with the world… it’s like I’m simply floating around observing my life rather than taking an active role in it.

Anyways, I realized that what bothered me wasn’t being plagiarized, I was more concerned over how little I care. Am I supposed to be angry? Should I send hateful emails making copyright threats?

I’m a hippy Artist blog family. I’ve said it before, I sincerely love everyone. Even during my angriest most dramatic monologues or harshly bitter poems about how this particular world confuses me and gets hard… empathy ever reigns supreme in the world of gretchen cello.

Things have been getting ugly lately… all of this chasing chasing chasing. It’s just not me. I guess the plagiarism thing brought this up with me because I can’t imagine why anyone would bother stealing someone else’s work other than to profit off it in some way. Maybe financial profit – perhaps it’s a personal profit of somehow convincing themselves that they wrote whatever it is they stole.

Sigh.

Creativity is so sacred to me. It’s something that I’m willing to go back and do yet another three years of study for just to align myself with a future job where I can inspire other students of life to tap into their own personal expression and benefit the way I do.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, if any of you guys can let me know I’d appreciate it.

And to the person who is obviously reading my page every day and picking and choosing what to steal, here’s something brand new I just wrote for you. Best of luck with it… hope you gain the fulfillment that I don’t believe is possible to achieve by any other means than being a decent human being.

i bleed. read.

i bleed. read
like you. similarities swirling to affection.
stolen love never seems to taste as sweet.
what i can offer you
in your question. lost
to find a voice, secure a unique rhythm of assurance.

i remember…

do you want to know what it really feels like?
bleeding. read. scarlet ink
lighting my veins. voiceless
familiarity. knowing us better
born from the same words
when you take my letters.

can you keep the pain too?

i bleed. read
by soothing uncertainties. more to give
in addition to
calm. collected. connected
with a story. sometimes safety is induced.
i want you to…
no. all i ask.

invite me to the sacrifice.
i promise to
hold you up. while
life
d
r
i
p
s

ps. Plagiarizer, one thing I’ve learned from finally putting myself out there after thirty one years is love me or hate me, no one else sounds like me… best of luck with whatever it is you’re seeking to find… namaste.