Addiction... Addiction is going to kill me. All the little harmful daily placebo "pills" that over time I have hardwired my brain into believing bring me closer to peace, happiness or enlightenment... Take for example lime sherbet. I fucking love lime sherbet. There's something about the sweet-tart zing tingling my tongue played against the thick texture of the lightly-melted, almost dairy that makes lime sherbet an intimate experience for me. I mean, I've had desserts that were far better for me, nutritionally, and I've certainly had desserts that were just plain better in quality- taste, richness, texture, the whole nine yards. But here I am, sitting in front of this screen, entranced by the pictures of beautiful, naked women, spooning bite after incredible bite of Blue Bell lime sherbet.
Now, don't get me wrong, my addictive personality reaches for vices far more dangerous than lime sherbet on occassion. I have 20 different types of moments during a day that belong to cigarettes. I want a drink or three to "take the edge off," remove the inhibitors and allow me to have fun when I'm out dancing on the weekends. And I'm quite fond of occassionally flushing my system with a mass release of seratonin- if you know what I mean. But really, when you look at it, although these things are more glorified representations of the issue, what could explain it more clearly than the fact that I am eating cheap lime sherbet when I could just as well be eating rich dark chocolate infused with Gran Marnier and snippets of orange peel?
Actually, after re-reading what I've written so far, I realize that my rant might be a little confusing without a key explanative element that I have left out. The associative element, that is... Or the law of diminishing returns. You see, all of the things that I end up being addicted to are tokens that remind me of moments when I have been happy in the past. I started smoking because there were beautiful people in my circles of friends when I was younger that I never would have approached if it were not for the fact that they had one flaw or another that brought them down just a notch- just enough for my stunted self-confidence to feel that they were actually on my plane of existance. And one of the most common flaws was addiction to cigarettes. In my life paradigm, that became the perfect state- incredible, but just flawed enough to be attainable. I sought that state, achieved it, and moved to the top of my social circle. I was happy- in a way. And cigarettes remind me of that. Now a little part of me tries to reachieve that state with every stick I light. Or drinking. It's simple, I drink until I don't have any fears attached to my social interaction, I have a great time because I'm not worried about making any sort of social mistake. Boom, association. I drink because it makes good times easier.
But you know what? Now that I think about it, I have no idea why I love lime sherbet so damn much. I mean, I could make many educated guesses- happy childhood moments that I don't remember would be my first try. But the association is not so clear as my higher profile vices... But one, two, three slow drips of the melting man-made nectar onto the tip of my tongue, and my eyes close, my breath slows and I punctuate this statement with an ear-to-ear smile..
Now, don't get me wrong, my addictive personality reaches for vices far more dangerous than lime sherbet on occassion. I have 20 different types of moments during a day that belong to cigarettes. I want a drink or three to "take the edge off," remove the inhibitors and allow me to have fun when I'm out dancing on the weekends. And I'm quite fond of occassionally flushing my system with a mass release of seratonin- if you know what I mean. But really, when you look at it, although these things are more glorified representations of the issue, what could explain it more clearly than the fact that I am eating cheap lime sherbet when I could just as well be eating rich dark chocolate infused with Gran Marnier and snippets of orange peel?
Actually, after re-reading what I've written so far, I realize that my rant might be a little confusing without a key explanative element that I have left out. The associative element, that is... Or the law of diminishing returns. You see, all of the things that I end up being addicted to are tokens that remind me of moments when I have been happy in the past. I started smoking because there were beautiful people in my circles of friends when I was younger that I never would have approached if it were not for the fact that they had one flaw or another that brought them down just a notch- just enough for my stunted self-confidence to feel that they were actually on my plane of existance. And one of the most common flaws was addiction to cigarettes. In my life paradigm, that became the perfect state- incredible, but just flawed enough to be attainable. I sought that state, achieved it, and moved to the top of my social circle. I was happy- in a way. And cigarettes remind me of that. Now a little part of me tries to reachieve that state with every stick I light. Or drinking. It's simple, I drink until I don't have any fears attached to my social interaction, I have a great time because I'm not worried about making any sort of social mistake. Boom, association. I drink because it makes good times easier.
But you know what? Now that I think about it, I have no idea why I love lime sherbet so damn much. I mean, I could make many educated guesses- happy childhood moments that I don't remember would be my first try. But the association is not so clear as my higher profile vices... But one, two, three slow drips of the melting man-made nectar onto the tip of my tongue, and my eyes close, my breath slows and I punctuate this statement with an ear-to-ear smile..