The Cost Of Being An Adrenaline Junkie

I’ve always been drawn to extremes, with me there’s no in between. I’m all in or all out. Playful or borderline suicidal. I starve myself till I almost pass the fuck out or I stuff my face till food coma ensues. I’m either obsessed or I couldn’t care less. Moderation never did it for me. You can be addiction free for years and decades, but I’m one to believe that at heart, we’ll forever remain adrenaline junkies.

Heart racing, blood rushing, hands trembling, welcome to the exciting world of sensation seeking. I love living on the edge, almost to a fault. Oh danger, sweet danger, are you right around the corner? You’re my necessary evil, I feel shameless to say I’m fucking thirsty for you. Too much is never enough. More is less. Danger, why are you such a temptress? Sticks and stones won’t break my bones, my desire to push my luck a little further each time likely will.

Chasing higher highs is a lifestyle - all the more when I’m running low on adrenaline rush supply. No limits is my bitch, she loves it when I tell her to turn it up supersonic. Death has her fingertips on my pulse - testing how much I enjoy being under her control. She wants me to beg her to ask for more. Choke me, do me dirty, oh death, show me how much you like to try to catch me.

Talking about adrenaline, in case you missed David Blaine’s ascension yesterday, (what were you doing seriously!?!) here is a little recap!