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Sessions of obsession

When he was little he would wear the same shirt over and over and over.

After some months of rushing washing and tumble-drying this little green shirt at midnight, hoping it would be ready in time for the next morning (or else, fits of screams and tears), I discovered one day that the washing machine had happily gobbled it up and destroyed it.

At least that’s what I told him.

He moved on to a Superman cape.

At the moment he’s in love with a pair of Allstars. They’re starting to smell like blue cheese.

__.__.__.__

She had long since learned that some things aren’t socially acceptable.

Getting stuck on a song was entirely acceptable though, if one kept it on the low down.

No one needs to know that you’ve listened to the same song 37 times in two days, that it is your ringtone, morning alarm and shower soundtrack. That it soundtracks your dreams too and even when you forget the lyrics its beat keeps pulsing inside you. You think your heart has started beating to the rhythm of the bass.

It’s funny how obsessive people can be.

Like an itch you have to touch for the kick it will give, this song you need to hear right now right at this pitch it will hit your heart strings you will give in.

A few months pass. Your obsession moves on. You play the song once, twice a month.

The soundtracks change, but they are always there.

Never a moment of satiated silence.

Always craving something.

25 September 2010

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