Early Days
"Fireflies and the stars in the sky, gentle glowing light from your cigarette, the breeze blowing softly on my face; reminds me of something else; something that in my memory has been misplaced. Suddenly it all comes back."
Everything makes me think of smoking. Everything. When I walked into my room and switched the light on just now, I was disappointed that I didn't get to experience the nicotine fog soft-focus effect that occurs when I'm chain-smoking at the computer with the window closed against winter. It's like the opposite of every tacky wedding photo you've ever seen, the anti-kitsch, a very stale, very male reality. When you're writing the kind of stuff I'm into at the moment, scenes like that can be inspiring.
It's been about six hours since my body realised that I wasn't planning on fulfilling the expected nicotine quota. This isn't my first time trying to quit cold, so I know that what I'm going through now is the absolute worst of it for me. All I have to do is survive these cold sweats and this awful craving until Tuesday, and then I should be fine.
Heh. It sounds like I'm trying to get off crack or something, I know. I really do suffer cold sweats for the first few days of not smoking, and a physical need for anything has me climbing the walls. I have a hell of a lot of willpower when I'm bothered enough to exercise it, but not so much as to be able to stop my hands shaking.
Still, I knew when I made my resolutions that smoking was going to be the bitch of the bunch. None of the others concern addiction, and they're really just a matter of choice. Keeping myself away from nicotine isn't going to be anything like as easy.
Anyway, for those of you who like to keep a mental image of the man typing at them, it's really just a few simple changes; remove the bottle of Jack, the glass, the pack of Marlboro Lights, the lighter, and the ashtray from the desk. Other than that, it's all the same. Oh...apart from the fact that I'm CHEWING GUM LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT.
I WANT A FUCKING CIGARETTE!
Thank you. I feel better now.
Everything makes me think of smoking. Everything. When I walked into my room and switched the light on just now, I was disappointed that I didn't get to experience the nicotine fog soft-focus effect that occurs when I'm chain-smoking at the computer with the window closed against winter. It's like the opposite of every tacky wedding photo you've ever seen, the anti-kitsch, a very stale, very male reality. When you're writing the kind of stuff I'm into at the moment, scenes like that can be inspiring.
It's been about six hours since my body realised that I wasn't planning on fulfilling the expected nicotine quota. This isn't my first time trying to quit cold, so I know that what I'm going through now is the absolute worst of it for me. All I have to do is survive these cold sweats and this awful craving until Tuesday, and then I should be fine.
Heh. It sounds like I'm trying to get off crack or something, I know. I really do suffer cold sweats for the first few days of not smoking, and a physical need for anything has me climbing the walls. I have a hell of a lot of willpower when I'm bothered enough to exercise it, but not so much as to be able to stop my hands shaking.
Still, I knew when I made my resolutions that smoking was going to be the bitch of the bunch. None of the others concern addiction, and they're really just a matter of choice. Keeping myself away from nicotine isn't going to be anything like as easy.
Anyway, for those of you who like to keep a mental image of the man typing at them, it's really just a few simple changes; remove the bottle of Jack, the glass, the pack of Marlboro Lights, the lighter, and the ashtray from the desk. Other than that, it's all the same. Oh...apart from the fact that I'm CHEWING GUM LIKE MY LIFE DEPENDS ON IT.
I WANT A FUCKING CIGARETTE!
Thank you. I feel better now.
posted by Michael at 9:31 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home