RESURRECT DEAD ON PLANET JUPiTER

quitting

I was scrounging through old files on the computer when I found something I wrote just before I quit smoking. The quitting was eventually successful, but the words still resonate:

I’ve given all that there is for me to give. Now I sit, smoke a nicotine-free cigarette and give this page whatever it is whatever’s left. For the first time, this cigarette tastes harsh.

Let’s start from the end. It all ended one day a couple months ago. I was elated. My classes were complete.

Actually let’s start with these nicotine free cigarettes. They’re on my mind recently. Mainly the part wherein I smoke one, suck the resin from the inside of my mouth, stare blankly at the room and light another – hoping that this time my mind will be tricked. By the third or fourth, I just hope that my lungs will begin to hurt. I hope that I’ll start coughing. I hope that breathing will become strained and nicotine or not, my body will be too damaged for the night to light another. I hope that if I repeat this for enough days in a row that I’ll forget all about the nicotine that used to be there. I’ll realize the abuse for abuse’s sake and give up the whole thing entirely.

So my problem, the bulk of my displeasure is work…

^ that’s an old statement. All of it. I continued on about some random shit, but eventually found a way to work in this line:

I feel that in the last few days, when I crack the door to enlightenment, enlightenment is sitting in the corner laughing at me.

And that’s all for then. Thanks for sharing this trip down memory lane with me. I hope that if you’re quitting smoking these words come as a comfort to you. I actually almost quit writing because the second I put a pen to paper I’d want a cigarette. Then I’d just write about that. Things are much better these days.