Oh obsession.. let me go. Let me be alone, with my misery. Turn your back , fly away, get away without...me. Don't take any part of me with you when you go. I fear that there is nothing left to claim, anymore. A shell of past, a harbor of memories and things, that used to be. Oh obsession relinguish my heart. This tragic sorrow has become my every thought. Oh obsession....release me.
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A psychiatrist was conducting a group therapy session with four young mothers and their small children... "You all have obsessions," he observed.
To the first mother, Mary, he said, "You are obsessed with eating. You've even named your daughter Candy."
He turned to the second Mom, Ann: "Your obsession is with money. Again, it manifests itself in your child's name, Penny." He turns to the third Mom, Joyce: "Your obsession is alcohol. This too manifests itself in your child's name, Brandy."
At this point, the fourth mother, Kathy, gets up, takes her little boy by the hand and whispers. "Come on, Dick, we're leaving."