To The Asshat Who Stole My Camera

I'm not going to beg you to return my camera, or call you all sorts of names that can't be repeated here. I've already done that. Many times. But before I go, I just want you to know what exactly you've taken from me.

First off, you've taken my camera. And my lenses. And my memory cards. And my filters, my caps, my bags, my tripod, my sight, my flash, my adapters, and everything else in that bag. You already know this. And guess what:$1200 of camera equipment doesn't come cheap - around $1200, in fact.

You've taken my escape. In a lifestyle filled with sleepless nights and 20-hour drafting sessions and endless days of tech, my camera is the one thing that I could always count on when I needed to get away from it all. In fact, it's one of the only things I own that isn't directly related to my work.

You've taken my art. Photography has been my outlet for expressing myself. Whether it's love, longing, sadness, stress, happiness, relief, anger, frustration, or anything else, my camera was my means to take my emotions out from within me and express my inner creative passion.

You've taken my goals. I really want you to think about this part, so I'll say it slowly. By the end of work this summer, I would have saved enough money so that I could spend next summer volunteering in Alaska building homes for those who needed them. It costs a lot of money, and I don't get anything out of it, but it's something that I'm very passionate about wanting to do. Well thanks to you, my summer paychecks will instead go to the fund for my new, replacement camera. Thanks to you, there will be one less volunteer helping families in need next summer. I hope you're happy.

She's a nice camera. Take good care of her. And fuck you.

R