Short transgressive fiction story on desires
Addiction. Perhaps our entire existence is plagued with an imposter syndrome. We follow someone else's beliefs, rather than following own. We turn to God, or whoever is up there whenever we lack faith in ourselves. We are seeking validation rather than comprehension. We want acceptance rather than understanding. We run so we don't stand. We sit so we don't move. We materialize everything and everyone we lay our eyes upon, so we can judge them, instead of experiencing them.
We are all addicted to something. And I am not talking about cigarettes, drugs, or a pointless drunken binge on a Saturday night. I am talking about chasing something incomparable to anything you've ever experienced before. We deprive ourselves the desires, so we can cover them up by partaking in some of the above Earthly delights. But the craving doesn't stop.
Like those cuts and bruises you got a kid, crawling through the dirt on your bare knees. It never goes away. It just pales with time and turns into a scar. Covered by clothes, you forget it ever existed. By the time you grow up, it's almost invisible, but you know it's there. On a rainy afternoon, followed by a sudden tingling sensation, it reappears for a second to remind you (of what?). It flashes in front of your eyes so bright, so vivid. So unadulterated. Incomparable to anything you've ever experienced before.
From all of the sudden, you feel like you forgot something. Something really important, however neglected. Left somewhere, years ago, and now you really need it. You feel restless, so agitated - how could you forget such an important thing? So you start thinking about it, but the closer you get, the further it goes away. Eventually, it all disappears in a cloud of smoke, just like the one you blew out a few minutes ago.
Time and time again this happens, but there is no way to catch it. As the years go by, it becomes well practiced in fucking with you like that. That awful feeling. Incomparable to anything you've ever experienced before. It tingles and pokes, and than it goes away. You try to ignore it, but then it only grows. It haunts you, lures you, takes up your space and pushes you out, but you cope. You disregard it until it becomes so big that you are feeling - this is the time you actually grab it. And you do, but it bursts into tiniest little pieces with the first touch.
And you think - okay it might have finally gone away now. But has it? Do you want it to? Again, that angsty feeling starts to kick in. What if you've lost it for good? What if you never feel it again? Now you start craving that obnoxious tingling, the elusive chase, the hopelessness, the frustration. You would do anything just to feel it again. You repeat all patterns, redo all the actions and rethink all thoughts, but to no avail.
So, you decide to make yourself forget about it. To suppress it, squash it, smother it, until all you have left is a memory. And you do, after a while. But now you can't even remember how it felt. You just know it was so good. Incomparable to anything you've ever experienced before.