"Nature never deceives us; it is always we who deceive ourselves."
Jean-Jacques Rosseau

That's how it all started out. A CD here. A magazine there. It was harmless.

Innocent.

An interest.

That's all it is. It's a fun, catchy tune. Easy to sing along. They're on TV all the time. Can't miss 'em. They're always there.

An interest.

A hobby.

Just wanted more info. That's all. Didn't intend to keep returning to those sites, or build one. There's already so many. What's one more, especially if it's done better? Besides, it's all in the name of fun.

A hobby.

Obsession.

Log on. Don't log off until hours upon hours later. Up until the wee hours. Writing. Updating. Making "connections." Existence is here. The outside world, the real world, fades into the background. This is the real world now; the teenies, the fiction, the graphics that take hours to create. It's absorbed through every pore, consuming yet another fan.

Obsession.

Control.

It's not out of control. And it doesn't control me. Not at all. I can stop if I want to. I only update 'cause I want to. I am in control. I only set the VCR 'cause I want to. I am in control. I only buy the CDs 'cause I want to. I am in control.

I am in control.

An illusion.