My vices

I don't smoke. I don't drink. At least not the point where I could be considered a drinker. I get my kicks from sounds. Words and sounds...
I get high with good music. Higher than any drug could get me. Round sounds that fill my ear with orgasmic delight... my ear drums tingled by a swarm of notes. I decompose each one into small particles and let them flood me. I digest them and make them part of my body.
Just like smoke protrudes through your lungs, invading each corner and floating about. Only, I don't exhale it. I make it part of my flesh. It changes me - it makes me new with each note I hear.

And words...In any form, especially written. Let me see... I think it's called "literature". Words are very powerful tools, but unfortunately most people aren't aware of that. Silence is equally important at the right moment. But words... language... they're a contact key for your brain.

If words are sung... well that's just pure p-l-e-a-s-u-r-e. A quick rush.
My vices... My heavenly vices.