won't learn

So my shrink was right: the best antidote to any fixation, is another. She was right about something else too, and about that I shan't give her the satisfaction of knowing until absolutely necessary.

But wise as she, I fear, could not tell me why I always and only covet the Unattainable. My own theory - involving perpetual self-esteem crises, a defeatist mentality, and old school Freudian subconscious self-sabotage - I do not care to go into (and nor should you).

Here's how I know that I'm in trouble. For the last 18 months or so there's been one irregularly recurring event (IRE) that taxes my sanity every time it rears its ugly head. To say that I burn in this IRE (a phrase in a song that I for a long time mistook to be "burning desire") would be overstating the case - but not by much. Well the IRE is on again (into day 4 I believe), and I've barely had a chance to fidget about it... Cured! Rejoice!, you say? I say Nay. For in its place is nothing easier; and my affliction is all but receding.

I am conscious of the possibility (however slim) of one or both subjects of my successive fixations seeing this. But I am no novice at being thought ridiculous by those whom I fancy, or if the charge be indiscretion - I doubt that they'd have preferred some frightful private outpour. Besides, I am only scribbling here to numb my mischievous (not to mention inconsiderate) imagination, which every chance it gets throws me into elaborate tales of passion that unfold quite independently of reality or logic. So I'm doing us all a favour.

It must be all that Eddie F I've been reading clashing with choice lines like "You are what you say you are so think before you speak" picked up from this little-known movie or that. (Ironic really, given the proximity of these two guilty pleasures on the International Scale of Trashiness.) I feel nauseous.