I haven't written in this for a while. Strange enough, it seems like six months of my life have melted away into some meaningless notion of empty adulthood. The more I become introspective about it, the more it bothers me. I've known people who have gotten into this pattern and never come out. I can't do this for very much longer. I guess one could say that I am not cut out for working mundane jobs or just always having the same thing happen to me.
I started taking chantix two weeks ago, but I keep slipping up. I've cut back on smoking by quite a lot. I can go the whole day without anything. I just keep buying cigars in the strange hope they'll make me feel better when I feel depressed (a growing trend these days). I want to smoke more when I have some emotional turmoil. It's sort of like a checks and balances type thing-- I think smoking is to me what scissors are to a cutter, which makes quitting so much harder. The pills make it taste horrid, and I no longer get the comforting rush anymore. It smells terrible as well. I can't believe I didn't notice how gross it was while I was doing it. I could say the same for some people I've dated.
And I leave you with some mogpoj gibberish:
Turn away, turn away my only son.
You've had your fun, now the damage is done.
You can love her and leave her, but you can't make her stay--
Oh son, spare yourself and just turn away.
You turn your cheek when you hear them say,"it'll get better some sunny day"
They spat in your face and you just smiled away.
It can always be worse, then night turns to day.
Turn your cheek and just look away.
My son, better things are coming your way.
They may laugh in your face, but it's better that way.
Turn your cheek son and find your own way.
Moments are measured in blood and mistakes made of fear.
When the time comes, we all fall as hard. The unknowing means nothing when it's known to be variable.
son you're as big as a mountain-- no man you will follow.
And to discredit any hint of seriousness, I've included a Mowgli pic.
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