How strange it is, to be addicted to something, to someone. I always believed that I won't be all that foolhardy but now, I know what a sheer pleasure it is.
It's not love.
God no!
It's lust or something awfully close.
Point is, it is obsessive.
It's not heart and flowers but cigarette and scotch.
Life with a decanter had never seemed do ravishing. You don't want to be with them or even like them.
In fact, it's the need to be worshiped.
The desire to own and posses.
It's a strange desire for desire and to be desired.
It's not love.
God no!
It's lust or something awfully close.
Point is, it is obsessive.
It's not heart and flowers but cigarette and scotch.
Life with a decanter had never seemed do ravishing. You don't want to be with them or even like them.
In fact, it's the need to be worshiped.
The desire to own and posses.
It's a strange desire for desire and to be desired.
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