You shouldn’t have it. You shouldn’t even want to have it. You shouldn’t contemplate having it. Your mind shouldn’t vaguely flit across the idea of it. The concept should be forcibly removed from the pathways of your brain.
So, naturally, it’s all you can think about.
Sound familiar? It does to me, too.
Lately, I’m just a big ball of want, and it isn’t restricted to any one area of my life.
Shopping – the malls should be called “The Devil’s Playground.” I was never a wild shopper before I quit my job. Sure, twice a year I would contemplate seasonal additions (like back to school and summer clothes shopping from the days of my increasingly distant youth). But now, when I absolutely know I can’t buy anything else before a paycheck has once again found me, I want to buy everything I see. I suppose I could just be looking at Retail Therapy as a way to quiet my increasingly busy mind, or perhaps I think that somehow becoming a fashionista will save me. I can’t do it. I shouldn’t want it. But I do.
Ice cream – aka death in a delicious cup. I get sick if I eat ice cream. Period. Intellectually, I know this. Physically, my body recoils. My brain, however, just wants it. Craves it. So, I had it. Shockingly, I became incredibly ill– and ill for hours. Why would I bring that kind of misery into my life? I won’t take that risk again for a while, I imagine. But want? Oooh, want is a different thing.
Men. When aren’t they dangerous? There is havoc in that want. Nothing good will come from wanting him (whether it’s an ex I’ve tried to banish, or a new distraction). It won’t be different this time. All those problems I know about—still there.
I shouldn’t have it. I shouldn’t even want to have it. I shouldn’t contemplate having it. My mind shouldn’t vaguely flit across the idea of it.
And yet, I want.