sometimes the only reason you actually invite an addiction into your life is that your life feels very unreal; you wake up everyday thinking, “wow, i’m still here”, and having a very strong sense of unreality in your waking life; so addictions are like physical anchors to reality; you use them as tangible landmarks to get through the day; you say “only one more hour until i can do x”, even if x is not necessarily very appealing; it’s just something to DO; it’s not even a real “addiction” (you can only pray for one of these, to be honest, something you actually like enough, which makes life feel worth living or something you get peace or satisfaction from); but it’s just a psedo-psychological ploy around which to “live”, something to map out your “day” with, a way to keep busy, a way to keep from thinking…i think anyone plagued with mental problems can find some relief in doing actually anything physical, whether it’s exercising, having sex, having a tantrum, etc. - just an out-of-body experience to force you to feel a duality: that you are physically there and that your self is not

ROFL my friend from Germany (the “other Sabine”) sent me this song, which she thought i’d get a kick out of…omg it is hilarious (i didn’t hear the song, so i have no idea if it’s “pro”, “con”, or “neutral”) but it’s freakin hilarious…i like understood every line, it was so funny!

“Fan Club”, by Picturehouse (an Irish band)

Hey hey, happy man, smiling as he leaves the book store
Carrying his carrier bags all bulging wide
Such a lucky man, such a lot to line your shelves with
Starts to hurry so that he can get
Inside
Each book it overflows with violent murder
That he can read about in bed when he gets home
It chills him to the bone

‘cos he loves Jeffrey Dahmer
And he loves the son of Sam
And he loves reciting segments
From ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’
And he worships Charlie Manson
Wishes he was Eddie Gein
He’s a member of the fan club
For the criminally insane

Hey hey, smiling man, smiling, leaves the local art house -
Just seen ‘Henry’ for the thousandth time
Don’t walk - he skips along, calls in at the old newsagent
To see if his magazine’s come in on time
It has a label screaming: ADULTS ONLY
And lovingly details all the latest gruesome crimes
He laps up every line

‘cos he loves Jeffrey Dahmer
And he loves the son of Sam
And he loves reciting segments
From ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’
And he worships Charlie Manson
Wishes he was Eddie Gein
He’s a member of the fan club
For the criminally insane

Hey hey, happy man, smiling while his aunt & uncle have
Fun force-feeding him with tea and cakes
Glibly sipping sits, mind-undressing antique figures
Briskly stiffens when he hears his aunt y say:
“well, ain’t that awful about that girl being murdered”
His uncle nods and bellows: “string the bastards up !!”
Our man just grips his cup

‘cos he loves Jeffrey Dahmer
And he loves the son of Sam
And he loves reciting segments
From ‘The Silence Of The Lambs’
And he worships Charlie Manson
Wishes he was Eddie Gein
He’s a member of the fan club
For the criminally insane

(note, i am not like some sickos out there who are actually “in love” with these people or defend everything they do, etc. - i actually think they are “losers” ha ha who would never have the “guts” to do what they so admire; but i am fascinated by these guys and sometimes empathetic; oh, also, there are some i distinctly dislike; cute song, though!)

ps - if you’re the “real” sabine, please write me!