Compulsion of an Obsession

The compulsion of an obsession, taking hold with measurements of tensile strength.

Cold turkey, nothing short of Christmas excitement.

Hanging out to dry, despite heavy rains of late.

Complications, mental and emotional stimulations suddenly no longer possible in terms of access.

Change for the better… apparent, although more than obvious if it wasn’t for a clouded vision appearing like a dust storm. Perhaps a product of untreated brain fog.

Like a shaken snow globe starting to settle for a life of normality.

A life once lived, no longer acceptable. Socially expected in any case. Now a matter of living on par with the somewhat general conservative populations.

The adventures of a lifetime crammed into the full term of a pregnancy. Giving birth constitutes a dramatic change to one’s life. The infant symbolic of renewed morals and ethics like a fresh start in life, despite the obsessional urges to live adventurously and experience a life deemed wayward.

Pain and its associated urges for comfort, requiring an alternative and more-legal solution. Despite adrenaline pumping at the mere conscious memories that yearn to be relived once more.

A new distraction in order to relieve this old distraction is a necessary must. Symbolic of a drug user chasing a high, albeit one that pales in scale when considering a ball busting high no less than 60 metres, over a toxic shock of a mystery shot.

Shots… a valid case in point, specifically in relation to photos point blank, high in the sky as an almighty why.

Hooked but not cooked, crashing from withdrawals alike. Evoking a carousel of old mental images that temporary satisfy overwhelming urges for a fix.

The physical, mental and emotional addiction of the controversial and unusual. In this case, certainly contentious to the majority.

Psychologically labelled, perhaps branded like a sheep that certainly doesn’t follow.

Welcome to the world of autism.