I recently came to a realization that I’m an addict.
I am severely addicted to being inspired. I spend most of my waking days seeking out a fix, and it rarely lasts beyond the momentary. I’m obsessed with learning to extend the high. It has affected relationships and caused tremendous amounts of grief and stress. It burns tons of money and dominates all of time. For the life of me I can’t imagine why someone would want to pursue this life if they didn’t have to. I’m so addicted at this point that Im sure the withdrawals would kill me. I have to stimulate my brain with the non boring and extremely challenging or I shut down…I come down. It’s exhausting. For me, losing myself in making things is like binging. Making small talk is excruciating. A waste of time. Blocking my fix. Fucking with my vibe.
Even this blog is a way for me to get my fix anytime I need it.
Quick hits. Feel goods.
If I’m being honest, this blog is an attempt by me to treat my addiction by controlling it more. When it’s not being controlled it can be wild. Nothing stands in the way of me scoring and depression is immediate once the high dwindles away. I’m trying.
It’s weird to me that someone would want to make things just so people could like them more.
Fame is cut. A weak drug.
I must admit something. I’m actively seeking out a heroic dose. That super hit. That euphoric hit. That Blue Magic type. The hit you don’t care if you wake up from. That hit you don’t wake up from. I feel like they are going to find me in a hotel of my thoughts, face down on a mirror… looking for myself.
I’m an addict. I’m working on it though.