©2022 Michael Raven
I hate it when I get a craving that I can’t put my finger on what would satisfy that itch that needs to be scratched. It’s worse than when you have a craving that you can identify, but know you can’t indulge in.
Today I have the former. There — that spot between the shoulders that us incredibly inflexible folk all have, that spot just between the scapula with the featherlight crawling sensation not unlike eight spider legs plodding along as an irritating slow pace from one edge of that untouchable territory to the next. THAT is the creepy-crawl going on, except inside my head and I desire something, want it with all the fiber of my being and… ugh… can’t even determine what it might be to then worry about any possibility of satisfying that urge.
It wouldn’t surprise me if it was the old smoker’s itch, disguised as something other that that nicotine craving. Sure, it’s been over twelve years since I last smoked, but even thinking about that twitchy feeling you got about the time you could justify a smoke break is making that itch increase ever so slightly. So maybe it is that, the old smokers’ tick. It is very close to that feeling. And, while I was a raging alcoholic for more years than I should admit to until thirteen years ago, the strange thing is that thinking about grabbing a drink does absolutely nothing to increase the sensation of craving.
And yet… I don’t think smoking is “it”. Drink is definitely not “it”.
Food? Ugh. Sure I get cravings for food, but these past few years have left me utterly bored with food. It’s not food.
Videogaming is definitely not “it”. I have had a hard time staying focused on any game for a couple of years now and I was very addicted to games until I burned out.
Scratch. Itch. Gnawing. Tugging.
I used to get the same feeling when I went shopping at record stores and, later, CD stores. That craving for a new aural experience, some music that would twist me out of shape and make me sit up. No — that is not the craving I feel either.
And now, just writing about this feeling, I realize just how twitchy it is making me feel. My muscles are aching ever so slightly as I type with a tautness of desire. Dammit all to hell!