Addiction

In high school, all the cool kids stood outside to smoke. My friends and I sat inside, a few tables further than the geeks and decided that smoking was for losers, by which we elevated ourselves from both parties. Just before I turned eightteen, I moved to Amsterdam and my great aunt blamed my dad for sending his only daughter to the Dutch Sodom and Gomorra. Her prediction that I would earn my money as a heroin hooker so far hasn't come true. On an incredible vague evening, just before graduating, I ate two slices of space cake and lost it in such a way that I avoided any use of drugs for years to come. When, in a belate adolescent fit, I deiced to start smoking when I was twentytwo, I always needed alcohol and other smokers to actually do it.

Since then, I only smoke when in company of others, and once in a while I can be persuaded into using soft drugs (the latter only abroad) and a few nights per week, I drink some beer, wine or whisky. Everything in moderation. In other words: I really tried, but I find it hard to get addicted to something. I can even put aside sugar, as appeared for the last couple of weeks.

There's one thing though, that makes me lose control, and puts me away as an languishing pile, longing for more, surrendered to the uncontrolable force that can be found in every cell of my body: television shows. I don't watch tv, I see them on the internet, where I - or the force in my cells - can watch them on every desirable time of day. Mostly till late at night. I surrender myself, my time and my intellect defenselessly to storylines, characters and cliffhangers. Once in a while I indulge myself with socalled 'bad series' that don't really have a plot but are lovely to watch mindlessly, like Sex and the city or Grey's Anatomy. More dangerous are the 'good series', with good acting, exciting storylines and great characters. Like Six Feet Under, Dexter or In Treatment.

And now, there is the West Wing. The last show was broadcasted in 2006 and all that time, I could resist the longing. Knowing I had to protect myself, I didn't listen to any of the stories about the show, refused to get any dvd set in my house and when the last thing did happen, I put it away in a deep closet. Untill I recently was in a cleaning mood and found it again. I blew the dust off, like an alcoholic would do with a good bottle of wine. I looked at it, held it, read the label and took the first dvd out of its cover. While crying, I put it into my computer, knowing I was lost.

Now, halfway the fifth of seven seasons, I am sleep deprived, have no social contacts because I always run home to watch more, I dream about my new friends CJ, Toby, Josh and Donna, and I try to change the subject through American politics to the series. My world exists out of the West Wing and I know it has to end soon, I have to go outside again, face reality.
Untill then, I vote: Bartlet for president!