ich bin so counter strike, ich hab garkeine zeit mehr in die schule zu gehen und amok zu laufen.

the real addict.Mittwoch 13.01.2010 10:39 PM

a routine scenario:
it's late and I'm home alone. I scatter. strolling around through the house. makin my way to the kitchen and back.
i'm on the hunt. i want something, unable to discover what i'm looking for in particular.
i try the bananas, an apple, a glass of gherkins.
chocolate, chips and bread.
i take and try just to realise I'm close to it... close, but no cigar.

i go on looking. keen on getting what I pine over.
i smoke a cigarette.
nothing. just fetor.
I'm searching desperately, because the desire I feel is enormous.

so I scarf down everything I find until my stomach gets sick and I go to sleep anxiously.

finally i discover it's you that allays my fractious hunger.
i consume your attendance and fear your absence because I'm not good at being abstinent.
I'm a real addict.

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