Friday, February 1, 2013

Theme 208 - Addiction

From @kanakkupullai: 

Who would ever want to live a virtual life? It was a dump yard, time wasting, addictive and artificial. No one was what they ever seem like on the social network! Even the most celebrated celebrity could be a fake in the end! And then habitually, he refreshed the page to see for new RTs.

From @MirrorofErised_ : 

Beep. Tweep. Tring. Whatsapp, Twitter, Facebook, Gmail messages. Her phone was the first thing she looked at in the morning and the last thing at night. Her companions were virtual, in reality she was alone. Absorbed into the virtual world, her addiction had consumed her. This realisation hit her but by then it was irrevocable.

From @Quratzafar: 

Every part of her was aware, straining, begging for just one look, just a tiny little bit of attention that he had lavished on her once. He refused to acknowledge her.

From @deescjockey: 

"I'm giving you up," she told the empty space. No more drunk dialing, she told herself, no more "surprise" visits, no more begging to give "us" another chance - I'm starting over, without him. She would remember these words with bitter reproach the next morning, as she watched him gather his clothes and leave.

From @SugarsNSpice: 

Creativity made them acquaintances. From sharing thoughts, to wiping tears, he didn't take long to be her best buddy. Before she knew, he was his addiction for life. Sharing cute morning texts, having long conversations and flirting lusciously,  they did it all. Then one day, he moved on. She still sleep with memories, of him.

From @MinolAjekar: 

She opens the door, finds him standing there smugly in those jeans she likes so much. Hair freshly washed, his scent envelopes everything. And then he smiles.
He holds chocolates, oysters, a bottle of tequila and smokes.  Does he not know he is the only high she needs?

From @sinpinklove: 

He was sacked from work. His wife left him . She got custody of the kids. The bank took away his three bedroom flat. He lay on the roadside, a bottle in hand. He sang to himself. He laughed. He cried. Alcohol had won. Once again.

From @chaosparticle: 

Three hundred grams down in four months. Nowhere close to the goal she had set before her friends when they saw her wedding dress wouldn't fit. This chocolate mudpie at the cafe did little to help. But then, what good was the strongest resolve if it could not be impeded by the sweetest addiction?

From @zoarcher: 

Dev was where he was normally found nowadays. In his lab, working on a project, whose scale matched that of creating the world. In a way he would. By inventing compositions to free mankind from its helpless dependency on love, sex, drugs, coffee, work. But in the bargain, he developed an unbreakable bond with megalomania

From @AwaaraMaseeha: 

His flat was teeming with people. They were his friends, whom he had called for a meet. They sat and he begun “I want to make money the only addiction in your life. Think, plan, snatch, kill if needed.” They knew what he meant. But they were college students. Where would this addiction take them?

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