I really like invading the privacy of people I know, or even people I don't know. I am extremely nosey and just like to see things that people would not want me to see. Their hidden things, their embarassments. It's not a sexual kick, it's just pleasing to me and interesting.
Whenever my parents leave on vacation for a few days I always snoop around their room. Open drawers, look in bathroom shelves, look under the bed. I've done it so much that I even keep track of their s** life by whether their toys and things have moved or been used. [They have not. They're all pretty brand new. It's sad.] I have a burning desire to go through my mother's computer, but she's relatively computer-savvy and I don't trust her to leave it running while she's gone without some kind of monitoring program going on. The days are unfortunately over when I could get on her computer without suspicion.
I love reading people's secret diaries without their permission, or finding their online blogs that they don't think I know about. It's awesome. I never tell any secrets that I have learned, not ever. I am a better person than that.
I go through my boyfriend's phone and computer and internet history. That's the only thing on this whole post that I feel a little bad about. But on the other hand I know he has nothing to hide from me. I don't worry or care about him cheating or whatever. I'm not jealous and we've had that talk many times already. If he wanted someone else, he'd tell me, and I'm not paranoid that he's secretly f****** other people. I just am interested in his weird-ass fetishes and the things he gets off to on the internet. He's a weirdo, that one. I don't judge him, but I do find it amusing.
I'm also a little bit of a klepto. I have been my whole life. Back in second grade I went through my first spat of stealing things. I would go to the little rack where backpacks were kept and when no one was looking I'd steal little keychains and things kids had hanging on them. I eventually got caught because stupidly I had someone's keychain out of my pocket in class and was looking at it. My mom beat the s*** out of me because she was embarassed, and made me give away a bunch of my stuff. I think she was wrong to do that. She didn't spank me, she BEAT me. For a long time. I deserved to be punished, but not that way. She also told me that I made Jesus cry along with all of my friends and everyone I knew. I knew even then, at 7 years old, she was full of s*** and nobody cried because of what I did, except maybe her. I wasn't sorry I did it, just sorry I got caught. I'm still not embarassed or sorry about it.
Even earlier than that, in kindergarten, I stole a little Rudolph toy from the reward box. I never got caught. A year or two later when I became paranoid that my parents would figure it out [this was probably after the keychain incident] I left it at a friend's house on purpose and never said a word to him until after high school, when I asked him if he remembered seeing it at his house. Again, I'm not sorry I did it, and I wasn't sorry then, just scared to get caught.
When I was in high school I found nude photos of my mother on her computer. They seemed to have been taken while we were at the beach, in our condo, probably by my father, but who knows. There were two of them, one titled "what do you do with this" and the other "and this sigh". I was always mystified by the names of the pictures. Years later I realized that I probably wasn't the first one to invade my poor mother's privacy in that house. My father probably found those pictures and was convinced that she was sending them to people on her online games. [He was probably right, to be fair. But that's a whole other can of worms.]
I never shoplift, I think it's stupid and petty, and too easy to get in trouble with the police. I just take little things that no one will miss. I lived with a woman once who had moved into a house when her sister had died. The closet of the room I rented out was filled with the dead person's stuff. I had to move all the boxes out, and while this was going on I took a few things. The owner of the items was dead, and the woman who now owned the house had no idea at all what was in those boxes. I feel I did nothing wrong. I have stolen a few little unimportant trinkets from every place I have lived. Just as a memento. No one ever notices they are gone. So in my opinion I harm no one by my actions. Only if they found out that I took from them. And they don't find out, so my conscience is clear.