Weird

Fascination is a weird thing.

If you carry it a little further over the line, it becomes another F word - fetish.

I have this fascination.

It's nothing big. It's like the little mole on my thumb, the odd shaped freckle down my spine and some scars covering my knee cap.

It sometimes worries me. My fascination with people that is.

I think I am fascinated with the way my fascination with particular humans functions.

It creeps up my neck, through my spinal cord, and comes into the center of my brain as if someone gave it authority to do so. Like a rash if you will.

It doesn't irritates much, but it bothers you a little.

Just a little though.

That's my fascination.

And like a rash it displays a glorious yet sinister splash of red, then like a rash, quietly, yet violently exits and disappears leaving no trail of evidence that it was there moments ago.

My fascination is that rash.

At this present moment, my body and my soul are swallowed up by this inevitable rash that presents itself once in a while.

Screaming and displaying authority.

Telling me that it is taking over my thoughts and turning me into this fool that can't be bothered by anything but a weird fascination.



A fascination for a particular human.