sturanium_235

I officially quit smoking cigarettes for the thousandth time tonight.

"Quitting smoking is easy.... I've done it several times."



I remember my first cigarette vividly, and I hold very few attachments to it, but I know it was the day of my 12th birthday in the courtyard behind Desert Hills Middle School, with my friends Matt and Brandon, both of whom I have lost contact with.

I have forgotten what it is like to not be a smoker. To not have a medical excuse to disappear from it all every 30 to 40 minutes, and it makes me wonder if I will know how to be, or even worse, if I must change myself in such a mechanical or functional matter to make this all work. I am used to having a social excuse to exist outside of a building, alone, without talking to anyone, without doing anything. To have that ability to inhale all of my worries and wants and thoughts as poison, and exhale them into the wind is a privilege that I have cherished for almost half of my life. The metaphor of it all is the most addictive aspect, I think. I'm not afraid of how my body will handle this, only unsure and defensive. I'll miss the smoke rooms, and novelty ashtrays, and my friend George at the Discount Smoke shop, and the smell of ashes in the air of an otherwise unlittered place.

This October I turn 24 years old. I will have been a smoker for most of my life 'officially' after that date. I have one cigarette left, which will be my ultimate birthday present to myself. This is, in all actuality, my last chance. Otherwise I submit to being a smoker for the rest of my life's duration, as well as a more punctual death. I hold no fear in failing this task. I am doing this for reasons beyond my own personal health.


I've kicked drugs. I've kicked girls. I've kicked lifestyles. Ive kicked family members.
This is the hardest thing I've ever tried to kick. (I've also kicked ass.....for the lord)


Optimism: I am eager to remember what a REAL breath of fresh air is and was.





Let's kick it...

wordbilly.