Kids, obsessions aren't healthy. They will cause you much pain and suffering. Do not develop them.

Sure, it may seem innocent enough to start liking a band, delve into their world, and dance around like a madman, but I assure you, it's not. Before long it will have you staying up into the small hours of the morning, bidding on videos on eBay, reloading the page every thirty seconds for the last fifteen minutes of the auction, shaking like a fucking leaf, adrenaline pumping through your veins. Your eyes will bug out of your head and you will see colours dancing before your eyes, as you look back and forth in front of you, "Are you going to bid higher than me? You're not doing to bid higher than me! I won't let you bid higher than me! I will WIN THIS FUCKING AUCTION!"

You will not sleep the night this occurs. Your muscles are too tense, your thoughts too wild at the prospect of actually seeing your favourite band--the band that does not tour America, the band that does not have American publicity--actually move, and speak.

This will consume your soul, and, as the night progresses, and things begin to go your way: you're winning auctions. Good. You get tenser. One more to go... I have to win this one too, I have to. You reload the page some more, even though the auction won't end for another ten minutes. Think, "This is sick." Decide to write a journal entry to take your mind off of the process, find it is all you can think or talk about, continue ranting and reloading every thirty seconds.

Meanwhile, you have a hide song in your head, and you feel this is a violation of your bidding ethics. You put some '89 live Manics mp3s on, to atone for this sin, and listen calmly to a sound closely resembling shattering glass--not good for your highly tensed state.

You promptly stop writing because there are only three minutes left of the auction, and this part requires reloading every five seconds.

You win both auctions. You prepare to spend $69.02 on two fucking videos.

You have never spent this much money on a video before. You find it somewhat exhilarating. But that could just be the adrenaline talking.

You are happy. You are also terribly, terribly wired, and remind yourself of the mother in Requiem for a Dream, because you know that is exactly what you must look like right now: freshly re-dyed unnatural dark red hair--with the dye that looks like blood, prior to it being washed out--frizzing out from your skull, due to the (fitful) two hour nap that you allowed yourself, prior to the bidding escapade.

But you're getting Manics videos. And you can tell that this is going to become an addiction, because you can't pass up something wonderful like that for anything. You are feeding your obsessions. It only gets worse from here-on-in. (No fear, no regrets, a little bit of pity for the pocketbook, that's about it.)

You cackle madly and abruptly stop typing.

revoless.
11:54 p.m.
August 26, 2001.
comments? 0.

car dead, pipes dead, people not dead. or the obligatory back-to-school entry