The Itch

Have you ever had a mosquito bite?

Do you recall that incessant need to scratch? To satisfy that itch by just reaching across and .... ahhhhh.

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I've lost count of how many little red, itchy bumps I have across my arms and legs. Apparently, I've been a walking buffet. Throughout the day and throughout the night, these little bumps call to me, pulse on my skin and deep into my bones, 

"pay attention to ME".

They are like those never-ending thoughts. Those old stories that play again and again, the regrets, the desires, the good and the ugly.

Those thoughts creep up every once in awhile and take over, crying out, "pay attention to me!!". 

And God, it feels SO GOOD when you do. When you take a second to scratch vigorously, to sink into the story of regret and fall into "woe is me!" while everyone consoles you, to open your wallet and say screw it and pay for that item that was calling to you.

You enjoy a few blissful moments of ease and attention.

And then the itch returns. The thought comes back. It's never enough.

Until the bug bite disappears, as they always do.


To scratch or not to scratch: That is the question.