A void of an obsession always made me anxious and nervous. As if I were, or weren't expecting an old friend who had always been in thought, but never in presence. A fixation of some sort or another had always been there for me, imagined, invented or otherwise. I always needed something to obsess over, to the point where it would ultimately possess me. Objects, movies, books, toys, ideas, thoughts, projects, people... there was always something to fixate and obsess over.
Later it would be labeled Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, a supposed mental illness. To me it seemed like an extension of my natural personality. Also complicating things as I grew, was my addictive personality, which later became drug abuse. I was an addictive, obsessive, compulsive individual. Quite a label, bound to get me into mischief in my life...
When puberty struck late, my fixation and obsession became the all too consuming activity of masturbation, or 'jerking off' as the boys in the locker room called it. I heard about it long before I practiced it. It became my all time favorite pass time. There were so many days I couldn't wait to rush home from school to drop my pants and get down to some serious business. The joys of a developing penis turned obsession.
Comments
Post a Comment