You find a free minute in front of your machine and before you know it, you're browsing: men seeking women (6564), women seeking men(1644), all the variations and the dreaded Casual Encounters (9315). You can't read this without itching to click it. The link ain't blue, man, it's purple. You've been down that road before.
You've got the CL Jones.
You say to yourself, "I don't usually respond, I'm just perusing." And Clinton didn't inhale. Who are we kidding? It's the Jones.
You say it won't affect my real life, it's just the internet. How dangerous can virtuality be? But your "real" life is dwindling down to sitting catatonic and unfulfilled in front of a radiation screen. You've got the CL Jones, and you're losing your eyesight.
Your health ain't what it used to be. You skipped the gym, the bike-ride, the jog because you check your email frantically to see who responded to your post, or if the one you responded to responded back. Responded, responded and despondent.
Don't Know Why? It ain't Norah Jones, baby, it's the CL Jones. And you're hooked. Don't try and tell me you don't got a problem. Because brothers and sisters, I have known there because I have gone there. I am the street messenger messiah, and I'm down here, in this virtual hell to heal. I fell back so I can feel your pain. And we delve so we can deal. Can you hear me?
The Road to Recovery is in sight,
and if you can Kick Craig,
you will Love the Light.
I was a Mouse-clicking, Ash-flicking,
hopeless unscrupulous Time-bomb Ticking.
But I knowed it, I was loaded,
and had to stop it before I exploded.
You know who you are, Brothers and Sisters.
And it spirals down far, Misses, Mistresses and Misters.
Whatever be your Jones, you can feel it to the bone.
This one's called C.L., I assure you that he's real,
he's the devil in disguise telling lies selling fries
and he's fooling while you're falling saying he knows how you feel.
Can you see this?
How he pleases?
I ain't talking Reese's Pieces.
You can Kick It,
Rid the Wicked,
I will be your personal Jesus.
The cold sweats, the love debts, the late night cries and moans.
Contact me if you want to be free,
I'll tell you how I killed CL Jones.