The first step to fighting an addiction is admitting the problem, right? Well it’s taken all of me to muster up the courage to say this but I’m ready. I have a problem. I am an addict.
Every waking minute I spend thinking, dreaming, fantasizing, wanting it to encumber me like a warm blanket. The days are so long I feel that I will never get home soon enough to quench my burning thirst for it. It has surrounded all my being. It has also overtaken my dreams as it speaks to me in all those lovely voices. I run with them in my subconscious where it feels like pure, eternal bliss. Sunshine after the rain…
I have no one to talk to about this. No one in which to bear the inners of my soul. I frantically search for someone who will understand, or at least be able to imagine (without prejudice) the overwhelmingly calm sensation it has on me. The tranquility of sea.
I fiend. I simply cannot get enough. The true horror though is that I know the supply has nearly depleted. Only two to go really. I don’t know what I will do when it is all gone.
I fucking love Harry Potter and his magical little world.
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