What’s your poison?
Is it fast food? Romance Novels? Watching grass grow? Perhaps something harder? Alcohol? Cigarettes? Clown Porn?
The kind that you hate to give in to, you dread it, and then somewhere in the middle of it the dread washes away. The adrenaline rushes through your body reaching into your soul. The road beckons you to just go a little further. The wind swirls past you seeming to lure you around the corner. As you slow to a walk, they call to you, begging your return. And in a matter of moments, I am ready to turn around and begin again. Damn, it feels so good.
For some of you this may sound a trifle addiction. Sure, I can wax poetic about it now, because right now I have it under control. Right now I am not exercising on my way to exercise. Right now I am not laying in bed thinking about my next workout. Right now I am not consumed. How long can I remain in the Right now?
Can you walk the line?
You know it isn’t a straight line, don’t you? The damn line is always moving trying to get me to fall off.
Damn line. Don’t they know lines are infinitely straight? Who do they think they are?