Blogging is like crack.

Blogging is like crack
(or how I imagine crack might be.)

Addictive,
possessive,
fizzly fun,
time-eating.

My eyes see light,
my body still half-sleeping,
I wonder…

Any hits?
Did anyone like it
enough to “like”it?
Hurry and put it on Facebook.

Throughout the day I check
for stars, a speech bubble…

some sign that someone’s out there;
intelligent life
acknowledging my intelligence,
my existence,
my writing.

Frustration with whatever interferes with my habit

with WordPress

for not letting me format the way I want;
for having to spend time trying to get it right
when I should be doing something else;
for making hitting the “Publish” button so easy
when I didn’t mean to click it;
for not letting me take it back.

with things I need to do

for taking time away from writing;
for not allowing me to find new blogs to read
or keep up with old friends.

Needing to do it again

just one more time
not matter what the cost;
willing to do whatever it takes
to get that feeling again.

What’s next?
Where do I get my next fix?
Where’s my camera?
Don’t forget this moment!
How can I make this better?
Can’t stop even if I wanted to.
I don’t want to.
They don’t like it.
They like it.

Blogging.

A lot like crack…
or your drug of choice….

and my husband did this to me.