Talking 'bout My Girl

Source: http://blog.29daysto.com/

Temptation is great. Temptation is like a virus, it cannot be killed because it does not live. Yet it feeds, on misery and despair and weaknesses. After nine months it is still here. The urge the desire the want the need. The desperation. I can still taste it at the back of my throat in my mouth in my lungs. Like fresh air only better. Like a shot of single malt only better. Like downing a glass of Coke only better. Like I'm being wrapped around by an overwhelming stench that is so beautiful, so dramatic, so warm and so complete. It calls for me to answer to respond to give. Hungry so fucking hungry. I need I need I so fucking need. Need to satisfy the urge the need the fucking need.

What is the problem anyway? Not like I'm guaranteed a longer life if I keep at it. Not like I won't die of any other diseases if I keep at it. Everyone's doing it, why must I refrain? Why must I hold back?

So there I was, sitting in my car with the engine off. In silence. It was almost midnight, but the petrol station still sold cigarettes. I was contemplating my next move. It was going to be a decider, of whether or not I should end my 9-month long fast.

Fuck it I'm just gonna go buy it and puff my worthless life away. What's the point in protecting a life when it's got no value? I got out, walked over to the counter and asked for a Dunhill..... Lights. Better not jump straight to Beast Mode. I've been out for over half a year.

As I pulled away from the station I took out a stick and tried lighting it with my car's lighter. Fucking thing wouldn't work! It could be a sign.
Fuck signs, I don't believe in them! After a few tries I finally managed to get half of it lit. That was enough. I dragged deep, like how I would've done it when I was chronic. The fuck?! This thing tasted like shit! It stank like the sewers! And it gave me headache and chest pains. After the stick was done, I vowed never to smoke again for the rest of my short life.

This morning I had to sample another stick. 2 puffs and it went out the window. Now the pack is in my car's glove box, awaiting it's fate: lungs or bin.