BLOW

Drinking coffee. Smoking cigarettes. Eating chocolate. Getting online. Snorting coke. When it comes to addictions, some people just have it way too easy.

Two types of addictions; first is when you know you are an addict. Wake up bright and early knowing and admitting you are, and you go to sleep at night considering cutting back in the near future. Somehow, it's never tomorrow. It's mostly the case that you swear "I'll start Saturday". Sounds familiar? Well guess what, this type of addiction is gay.

The above makes your body itch. Makes you desire and long for something. Infact, it's just so easy it's damn pathetic.

Ah, the second type is where agony resides. Never knowing you were an addict. One fine morning, you wake up and you're struck with the facts. Deal with it. All you can think about is getting one hit. Oh man, the lengths one would go to get a hit. One sweet fix. No, fuck that: THE sweet fix. The kind that's going to make all things right. The thing that keeps you going.

In comparisson, the first type isn't even worth being called an addiction. It's just a walk in the park. You know where you can get it. You know how you can get it. And you definitely have access. Otherwise, what kind of a sissy are you on a gay addiction, right?

The thing with the second type is that it's, in most cases, all around you. It's there, but you can't get it. You physically can see and touch it. It's just there, no poetic bullshit. It is just .. is.

The blurry vision of what seems to be everything racing towards you. That sweet smell of burning rubber on take-off. That ever so subtle beat your heart skips with every gear change. The faint hint of deadly gases. The threatening snarl of an American 5.7 litre V8. Or the symphonic note of the finest European engineering at its best. The urge to demand more of an urge. The type of addiction where you actually control the dosage. It's not about gay access. It's all about brutal excess. Actually soothing your wants by flooding your system. Your brain can't take it anymore, it transfers it evenly throughout your being. It's never the other way round like with the first. Heartbeat constantly rising. Blood pressure so high you could feel the pump of circulation. In. Every. Damn. Vein. And. Every. Fucking. Artery.

Now that's what I'm talking about. The sweet, everlasting fix. That sweeter release you long for while it's being emitted. The same release you wish would never end; yet never experience since you wouldn't want to put up with the abuse.

When you feel your heart about to explode. That's when you know you exist. No, fuck that. That's when you feel you're reborn. Yeah, that sounds more like it. Yet still, doesn't do it justice.