Journal

monsoon of gratification


Compulsive behavior is inordinately  satisfying. I sink into familiar modes of action. It’s easy to do without thinking, to act without hearing all the voices in my head. To stop the analysis and give-in to a part that is also you.

We do some things consciously and some unconsciously. An omnipresent pattern in your food habits, approach to dating, approach to people and in the execution of tasks.

It would be lying, cheating, sexual games, procrastinating, gluttony, the games we play while dating and mating; it’s guiltless because there’s no need to explain yourself to yourself. The answer was just because I wanted to. Nothing beats the silence of a guilt free mind.

The desires that refuse to leave us are fragments of primary instinct, related but in a warped way. The need to sleep, desire for food, progeny and the fear of death define our lives every day. But in a world where our senses are continually stimulated – the links between sensory perception and gratification are out of synch and we find it hard to tune into the natural cadence of the body and mind.

It’s comforting and familiar to act a certain way, even if you know it’s going to turn out the same old way. Is an intervention needed? Analogous to madness, if you want things to turn out differently , you’ll have to do things differently or do different things. And on the flip side if it works, why fix it?

Comparison seems entirely unnecessary. Some people have innately healthier fall-back patterns. Does it matter?  My vices are my own and there is immense satisfaction to be had in owning them.

The babel mutes to a soft murmur as I roll up the window  to an ever-engaging present. I slip back no matter how much I’ve dissected and analysed, how to my detriment it can be to repeat a pattern. This hues of this desire colour my world, I know they will inevitably set. But for now I am happy and alight. The dormant parts of me, parts that I sometimes don’t allow will enjoy this rain while it lasts.

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