Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves

My mind is a battleground among gypsies, tramps and thieves.
The gypsy section is imaginative, colorful, feisty, secretive, not entirely trustworthy. It propels me away from boring meetings and boring, intrusive people. I pack up my attention and relocate, employing my own inscrutable language.
The tramp part of my brain exists on minimal sensory input, never staying focused on anything. It collects scraps of thoughts and ideas and seldom ventures into social interaction. Sometimes it puts me in a fugue state, makes me sloppy and unkempt.
Because I am a writer, the thieves in my mind are there 24/7. I steal from everyone all the time. I own your chagrin, your joviality, anger, embarrassment, regret. I squirrel away your posture, tone, style, your walk, I know your ringtone and shoe size. I catalog all your facial expressions. I do this so quietly you are unaware what is happening.
Mostly, I steal your best witticisms, your long, entertaining stories, your irony, ad libs, sarcasm, your best jokes and anecdotes. I'll use all of this in my work because I am a writer and this is what we do.
The thieves in my brain have just subtly stolen these very moments from your life.