Minor addictions worsen, but I know I can beat them. I just don’t want to. In this case habit overpowers addiction. The patch will do no good, besides, my lungs are already stained. Sugar rots my teeth. Food is a turn off. I know exactly what I’m doing. There is nothing worse than disappointing yourself. It’s in your power yet you mess things up anyway. If I stay here any longer temptation will get the best of me leaving all in vain limbo. An overdosed diver. Waterbeds are covered with dusty sheets that hide rusty nails as we drown in our sleep. Fixated in a lifestyle that is no better than the next but it doesn’t matter because it’s an image. It’s your image. It’s my image. Left-handed children are taught to use their right. The odd man out is forced to conform to familiarity as a precaution for paranoid sellouts. Television advertisements get stuck in a subconscious mind. Freeway billboards speak louder than the human voice will allow. Blame it on the company. The big corporate monster. The industry. The system. Society. Maybe we are forced into addiction and playing the victim. Cobwebs can be found in almost any existing corner. Each spring they are swept away with a broom but spiders are far from being extinct.
March 25, 1999