Every few weeks, we post an open thread with a brief writing prompt. Here are some highlights from this week’s thread, on drugs that are not drugs.
I don’t think I loved him, but if I had to base my feelings for him solely off my addiction to his lips — to his kiss, their shape, the way they hugged his smile back — then he was my everything. — Monica
Cycling is my drug, administered via singletrack trail. Nothing else gives me such pleasure, pain, hope, despair and freedom. — Mark
It’s this feeling, the way your heart is full to bursting as the final chord shimmers in the air, that you never want to stop chasing. — Nicole
My dad taught me how to shoot, how to respect a rifle and a pistol, how to squeeze a trigger to keep your shot true. Though we shot (or at least shot at) the occasional prairie dog, we were shooters and not hunters. — Roblin
In his arms the warmth of our bodies spread like fire, drove me wild. — Albert
Those blue eyes & that cheeky wink. — Alexandra
To say love is my drug would be too simple. The first time I fell in love would not suffice either. But the evidence of that time — all the collection of written outpouring, emotional turmoil — is my irresistible source of inspiration that haunts me yet I can’t let go of. — Grace
The library is my drug of choice. I go there for peace. I go there for help. I go there to find an answer. — strictly
ASMR is my not-drug. For those unfamiliar with it, ASMR stands for autonomous sensory meridian response. It’s basically that tingling feeling you get when you hear or see something relaxing or stimulating. — Ryan
When we broke up, the pain was incredible. The withdrawal was long and difficult. Three years later I am still addicted. Now it’s an addiction to the memory of him, memory of us. — Ole
The sting of a hot shower — fiery needles smacking my neck, my back, my shoulders — has the power to relax muscles that grip like vices. — Alex
Concerts and music festivals have an unbelievable effect on me […] The setting stimulates every sense — sight, smell, taste, touch, sound — entirely. That’s the addictive substance: having every sense thoroughly stimulated. — aubrey
You were a magnet. I didn’t have to love you to be drawn to you. — Monica
This is probably too weird to write about publicly, but it is, at least, the truth. My non-drug is the top of my children’s heads. I don’t know about my parents, but my kids are unlikely to approve of my writing about this, even though they kindly tolerate my semi-obsessive behavior.
Well anyhow, lots of people know that the top of a baby’s head has an intoxicating smell. And parents know that scent lasts throughout toddlerhood. After that, you can’t just go burying your nose in your big-kid’s hair and sniffing like a lunatic…
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