The more the chicken crossed the road, the less he liked it, but the more he needed it.

You know that warm fuzzy feeling inside you, the one that makes your heart leap with joy, expectation makes your palms sweaty, you cannot help but smile, you can't wait any longer... Oh dear, you thought I was talking about love, didn't you?! The braver or more vulgar amongst you are probably proudly thinking "nope, you snide woman. We were thinking sex." Nope. I am talking about addiction.

Whether it's cocaine or, like in my case, caffeine, addiction leaves no loose ends, imagination is scrapped for what is a story so predictable that every word of it has been written before it has even begun.  In fact, I'll give you that, it is very much like a love story.The initial thrill and enjoyment are quickly replaced by habituation, and then a need for it. It will never feel as good as it did the first time but we try it anyway. Quantity does not substitute quality.

There is no such thing as an ex addict. Addiction, you cannot undo. The body will be physiologically altered but it's the mindfuck that will keep you going. What I love about addiction is the warm fuzzy feeling of belonging. It is like meeting an ex: maybe you haven't seen each other for years, and then, as soon as you meet up, it's like you were never apart. There are weeks, months even without a single drop of caffeine, not in tea, not in Coke, not in energy drinks. And then, a smell... out of nowhere, an echo from your past reminds you of how good it used to feel, to have coffee. Your experience and your instincts battle. It's not that you can't have just one, it's that you won't. The pattern, the self-destruction and the unconditional, albeit residual, love from the object of your addiction, make it so easy to have just one more. One more.

I know for a fact that I have an addictive personality, so believe it or not, I do actually handle things fairly well. Thought, here it is- I think another common thing between addicts (to anything) is control: addicts possess a specific type of weak character, perhaps rooted in a challenging childhood, a character attracted to power and control. Because addiction, control and the lack of it are a match made in Hell, a destructive threesome: the illusion of control, the self-torturing game of losing control and gaining it back again, the arrogance when we accept the challenge that "it's just one more time, just this once". So, even though  I know  have an addictive personality, despite my knowledge of psychology, anatomy, and that painful feeling in my kidneys I got last year, I keep going back to drinking energy drinks and coffee, every few months. I handle it by having long periods of time, when I don't do it, and in the times when I do "binge" on caffeine, I still try to it in moderation. Or what for me is moderation. Only 3 cans today, watered down with tea.

Yet, for all my efforts, I know I will spend the rest of my life having nights of caffeine and self-destruction, despite my better judgment, because... it feels good. It feels welcoming, it feels a bit mischievous, it feels complete, and, for a second, that first sip makes all the rest of the world disappear, while my body is filled with bliss and taurine. It is a forbidden love affair. The object of your desire doesn't judge you for relapsing, it doesn't even judge you for not coming back sooner, it loves you because you love it. I won't quit caffeine not because I can't, because I don't want to. Sad, perhaps, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Why did the four ducks cross the road? I have no idea, but they gave me hope

As my housemate's pictures of 4 ducks crossing a road are getting uploaded, let me tell you a story.

I've been feeling very badly in the last week or so. It was an end of an era coming, and that will get a whole other blog, it's a story worth telling. But I also realised that I have friends and I have family, I am strong and I know what I want from life, I will not compromise, and that's definitely something worth keeping.

Tonight was an ordinary tuesday night. I went to the new BED,  and for the first time, it felt like it should do. I met some random guys, made a bet with them - should I fulfil their challenge, I get a beer from each one of them. The bet was that I wouldn't dare dance on top of the bar. Of course, what they didn't know was that this would hardly be my first time doing it. I shared the plan with F, he lifted me up on the bar. I got another innocent-looking girl to dance with me up there, and I could feel the energy of the crowd going up. I then got my beers from the random boys. I partied, said goodbye to my peeps and left. Already, it was a better night in the new BED that I could have hoped for.

And here it is where the story gets magical.

On my way home, I literally saw four ducks crossing a road. Never mind the chicken. FOUR....DUCKS....CROSSING....A....ROAD...IN...THE.....CITY.....CENTRE...OF.....ROTTERDAM....indeed.

The four ducks...just after we'd caught them crossing the road. Next to a shop. At  3 something am.

I've been needing direction in my life. I've felt lost, I've felt like all the important parts of my life are disappearing, I've felt like I have no direction. It's still true: I'm still dealing with a break-up, I'm dealing with living in this country where I don't speak the language and I am learning it, I'm writing a Master Thesis, I am applying for jobs all over, I'm figuring out all about who I am, I am dealing with other stuff as well.........and all of a sudden I see FOUR DUCKS crossing a road. It was a bit like wink, a quirky (or quacky!) reminder that life has a tendency to sort itself out. I don't believe in god, I don't believe in fate, but I sure as hell believe in the four ducks that crossed my street.

Thank you, four ducks. By far, this is the oddest and quackiest thing I've ever seen.

R.