At home. I’m staring at the glowing computer screen in the darkness of my newly decorated room. Rocking back and forth on my chair, covered in cold sweat. Muttering “oh god” to myself.
A month ago I joined this Swedish auction site called Tradera. I joined purely out of boredom. I thought it would be a fun thing, checking out some interesting auctions, following bidding wars on exclusive items, see how much some fools would be willing to pay for an autographed baseball.
Now it has taken over my life. I’m abusing it. I’m bidding on things to the left and right. Mostly on useless things – things that would neither serve to entertain me nor be of any use to me. But that doesn’t matter; all that matters is the rush I get from placing the highest bid. It makes me feel good. It makes me feel rich! But then I get this icy chill down my spine and I think to myself: “What have I done?”. Overwhelming feelings of regret, emptiness and shame wash over me, much like post-masturbation.
I often find myself looking at my page and realising that I’ve the highest bid on several different items that I don’t really want. And I pray that some kind soul would overbid me before the auction ends. I try to distract myself by visiting other sites, but it’s all futile resistance. Soon I’m back again, bidding on yet another useless piece of crap, feeling disgusted by my lack of self-discipline.
This has turned into quite an unhealthy relationship, huh?
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Friday, April 24, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
I lie in bed looking at the cracks in the ceiling. I follow them from corner to corner. Choke an impulse to shout at a dog barking outside. I glance to my left and let my eyes rest on your placid figure. I watch as the morning sun gently brushes your back. I turn my eyes to the cracks again. Get up and sit on the edge. I look at the naked wood floor and take my first step without any sound being made. I pick up my mountain of clothes from the floor and start sneaking out. Not a sound echoes in the bedroom. I know this floor; I know where it creaks and I know where it squeaks. I can beat it. I carefully take a few steps and look back at the still figure lying on the bed. I'm terrified. I am Robin Hood and she is prince John in her comfortable slumber. Take a few more steps and then it happens. My phone drops from the pocket of my jeans. I know I've lost. Prince John wakes up. "Cut it out", she clears her throat and shifts position. I quickly take a few more steps and just before I close the door I say: "Good morning!". Read more on this article...
Posted by Janne at 7:07 AM