RANDOM QUOTE | We are living in a world today where lemonade is made from artificial flavors and furniture polish is made from real lemons.
-Alfred E. Newman | |
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SMOKING | | Category: Personal Wednesday, November 17th, 2004 @ 09:56 pm
| It's
been two days. My vision will narrow from time to time.
Every time I consciously think about it, my feet begin to go
numb. I feel every muscle in my body constantly telling me that
something is really fucking wrong.
My body has had the constant influence of a controlled substance for over
ten years now. Ten years, wow. For ten years (with
intermittent small breaks every handful of years) I have not
experienced life without external chemicals to create an artificial
calm about me.
As I sit here typing this, I feel like I'm dying. I'm in a room,
drinking, with three smokers. With every sip of my beer, my blood
pressure drops and my body begins demanding that I raise it through the
usual means. With every pull they take off their coffin nails, I
look down at my hand half expecting there to be a stogie smoldering
away already.
This is going to be tough, but I'm hoping I can actually pull it off
this time. This time I'm actually pissed off that something I've
taken for granted for so long has this much of an effect on me. I want to be free.
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