#addiction

Just because something is addictive doesn't mean that you will get addicted to it. But . . . if your stomach ties up in knots while you count the seconds waiting for a phone call from that special someone . . . if you hear a loud buzzing in your ears when you see a certain person's car (or one just like it) . . . if your eyes burn when you hear a random love song or see a couple holding hands . . . if you suffer the twin agonies of craving for and withdrawing from a series of unrequited crushes or toxic relationships . . . if you always feel like you're clutching at someone's ankle and dragged across the floor as they try to leave the room . . . welcome to the club. ↗

— Ethlie Ann Vare

#ethlie-ann-vare #love-addiction #self-help #sex #sex-addiction

Every form of addiction is bad, no matter whether the narcotic be alcohol, morphine or idealism. ↗

— C.G. Jung

#psyche #psychology #bad

Every day I ran to that book like it was a bottle of whiskey and crawled inside because it was a world that I had at least some control over, and slowly, in time, it began to take shape. ↗

— Craig Ferguson

#control #writing #addiction

Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish. So he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family. ↗

— Stephen King

#family

I am not your victim because you are not a predator any more than a bottle of scotch stalks an alcoholic. ↗

— Sue William Silverman

#alcohol #love #sex #love

Who shall I shoot? You choose. Now, listen very carefully: where's your coffee? You've got coffee, haven't you? C'mon, everyone's got coffee! Spill the beans! ↗

— Terry Pratchett

#coffee #humor #humor

A frequent exchange of text messages is not a relationship. It's not even a pen-pal. ↗

— Ethlie Ann Vare

#love-addiction #self-help #sex #sex-addiction #love

I quickly, swiftly, reach in, pluck out, and peer into the mirror. 'I am still here.' I am in the glass, in this moment. After this moment, I may not be here; I may be a person who does not know where she is, or why. I leave the kitchen table to bathe, and to dress for church. If only my closet held on its shelves an array of faces I could wear rather than dresses, I would know which face to put on today. As for the dresses, I haven't a clue. ↗

— Tim Cummings

#afterlife #astrology #brothers #children-of-celebrities #class-struggle

Future historians, I hope, will consider the American fast food industry a relic of the twentieth century--a set of attitudes, systems, and beliefs that emerged from postwar southern California, that embodied its limitless faith in technology, that quickly spread across the globe, flourished briefly, and then receded, once its true costs became clear and its thinking became obsolete. ↗

— Eric Schlosser

#technology-addiction #attitude

And finally the glass that contains and spills this stuff continually while the drinker hunches before it, while the bartender gathers up empties, gives back the drinker's own face. Who knows what it looks like; who cares whether or not it was young once, or ever lovely, who gives a shit about some drunk rising to stagger toward the bathroom, some man or woman or even lost angel who recklessly threw it all over—heaven, the ether, the celestial works—and said, Fuck it, I want to be human? ↗

— Kim Addonizio

#loss #love