something has become malignantly addictive if and when it begins to offer itself as the cure for the very problems it has caused. the addiction becomes a self-perpetuating mechanism, a peculiarly psychotic kind of closed logic system. the dialectic between problem and solution becomes irreparably entangled.
the very clarity and presence of mind that might allow you to see this entanglement for what it is (illogical, fundamentally broken, destructive) and thus find your way out of the addiction—this is the thing which the addiction compromises. and it feeds on itself, endlessly, it is incredibly convincing and unspeakably seductive.
a horrifyingly bad lover: totally inattentive to your needs, concerned only with perpetuating itself, apparently intent on (essentially) colonizing your entire life.
the past month has seen an unceremonious exit from instagram, an app on which I used to spend countless hours scrolling, and a breakup with cannabis, my most faithful mistress since I was 12 years old. the loveliest and most brutal thing about quitting is that it doesn’t solve anything, at all. all of your problems, flaws, inconsistencies, they’re all still there, but the clarity necessary for actually facing them, the thing you didn’t realize was missing from your life, returns, an old friend who you didn’t necessarily want back in your life...
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