Self-Absorbtion

"All addictions are the same at heart. What am I trying to distract myself from?"

A good question posed by a good friend of a friend. I don't know him, although the more I read of his writing the more I want to know him, have conversations with him and struggle to answer these questions.

If travel is my addiction then it could be said that I am perpetually running away. From what? Everything. A stifling life, punctuated by too much ordinariness. I yearn for unconventionalism, to be different. But, dare I say, am I simply not? Different, that is. Do I spend too much time trying to be different than actually being different? Actually I think not. I try to do and be what makes me happy, and if it's different okay, but if it's not then whatever. I am me, and I embrace myself.

Addictions. You have addictions to distract you from something. I am realizing as of late, that I am truly an addict at heart. I use substances and people to intoxicate me so I don't have to think about life and what I'm using it for. What am I doing? Where am I going? Who am I? I give these questions that permeate my existence entirely too much thought. BE HERE AND NOW. I tell myself. But it's hard. So hard. So I alter my perception to focus on something else, anything else; a swirling rainbow pattern reflecting in the back of some guys t-shirt, the way a pen feels in my hand, the way the sun melts into a prism of fantastic colors as it sets for the night. All serving to make me forget my restless, uptight nature where I forget to breathe. LEARN TO LET GO. Let what go? You might ask. EVERYTHING.

The ultimate fight: Id versus Ego. My pleasure principle requiring immediate satisfaction battles with my realistic side drilling the idea into me that there is a time and place for everything, all while trying to let go my super-ego ideals that I grew up with. I want my own ideals. I want to not care about the proper time and place and I want to fuck off being realistic. I want, I want. Me, me, me. Am I self-absorbed or what?