My God, I haven't been on this site in ages. But I was digging for a post I'd made somewhere at sometime about a particular thing, and holy shit here it was, still! Which got me back on the site, which got me reading through some old stuff of mine, some stuff of people I know/knew. I've got (unbelievably bad) poetry on this site from 12 years ago. It's unbelievable, really, just how much of my life from age 15 to 24 is here. And how deadly real it all was at the time.
Not even a little. This is my second day, so far I have had two cigarettes in those two days. Not a perfect record, but still, I think, reasdon enough to be proud of myself. Usually I'll have two cigarettes within an hour and a half of getting out of bed, so two in 36 hours is pretty close to a miracle.
I've got this on-again, off-again headache, I can't seem to eat enough to not be hungry an hour later. I've been monsterously cranky. I couldn't throw a bowling ball straight last night to save my ass. I've gone through a lot of weed, and I'm going to go through a lot more. And to put the poo icing on this shit cake, they were giving away *free cigarettes* at my convienience store yesterday. Yeah, I was a joy to be around, you bet your ass. But I didn't take them, and that's all that matters at the end of the day. It's just one more obstacle to overcome, and every little thing that makes this harder is one more reason for me to stay tough. It's mostly an ego thing, you know. I just can't stand the idea of being subservient to something, and I am a slave to the cigarettes. So paradoxally, every stupid thing like the damn free packs of cigarettes yesterday is a little more motivation for me. If I can refuse free cigarettes, then I can damn well ride this out, I think. I mean, how much worse could it get?
Wish me luck, guys n girlz.
I really am quitting smoking. I have talked too much shit to too many people, I can't back out now. But I am so damn scared. I have been a regular smoker for ten years, since I was fourteen. I don't know how to be a non-smoker, I've never done it before. But like I said, I've talked too much shit to back down, this is going to happen, come hell or fair acres. And I really do want it, really badly. I'm sick of being a slave.
I came out to someone on Wednesday night. Yeah, I know, someone's always coming out to someone, right? But this someone happened to be my girlfriend.
My best friend from college got married on Saturday. And so the Prairie Mafia, or we who remain, donned our best suits and mounted up once more to watch the walk, get beligerently drunk, and bid farewell to the first of the old guard to fall, and through him, perhaps also farewell to an era of our lives. If I cried maybe just a little bit, well, whose fucking business is it, anyway?
We love you, Nikolas, and we would never have let her take you from us if we didn't love her too. You'll do all right.
Then there were four.
"I have some time left before Allah takes me, and I have to fill that time. And I have my pride, depite all. And people are watching me, of course. I was a prominent man, and people enjoyed watching my fall, of course they did, and they watch still! So what kind of story am I going to give them next? Because that's what we are to other people, boy, we are their gossip. That's all civilization is, a giant mill grinding out gossip. And so I could be the story of the man who rode high and fell hard, and had his spirit broken and crawled off into a hole like a dog, to die as soon as he could manage it. Or I could be the story of the man who rode high, fell hard, and got up defiant, and walked away in a new direction. Someone who never looked back, someone who never gave the mob any satisfaction. And that's the story I'm going to make them all eat. They can fuck themselves if they want any other kind of a story out of me."
Watching the full moon through the branches of the birch tree
As I have watched so many full moons through so many birch trees
through so many years
But never before this one, and never again
Loose bark rattles in the breeze
like a baseball card in a bicycle spoke
And for a moment, it's Cannabis Hill
For a moment I see twenty, and behind it seventeen
Getting smaller in the rear view mirror
When the way comes to an end, then change. Having changed, you pass through. I Ching, Hexagram 41
Note: first draft, critique and comments greatly appreciated
on the corner of University and Albert
waiting for my transfer, I had an encounter
he was homeless
he was drunk
he wanted to hug me, and bum a cigarette
I let him do these things
because that's the kind of person I am
he staggered off, and I gave it no more thought
the way you do at 5:30 leaving the office
when you've already had quite enough and just want to put your feet up and order Chinese
with hot sauce. And I daresay it was fucking awesome.
I really really don't want to go to work. But I was a dumbass, see, and didn't request today off until last Tuesday. By which time two thirds of the company had already requested Friday off, so, needless to say, I got laughed at. Whatever, I really do need the money, I guess. And it'll be a slacker day anyway, and everyone will be bringing great leftovers to share (I'm bringing lefse...mmm...) So I really can't complain. I get to sit on my ass and read a book and eat leftovers, which is what I'd be doing at home, except I'm getting paid for it. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Accentuate the positive.
...and the Red Sox won the World Series last night. Of course, that, by definition, means that the world is going to end today, so I strongly suggest that you all go out and do whatever it is that you've always said you're going to do before you die.
Well praise the Goddess and pass me a beer, that prick bastard is back, and high-speed, no less! Didja miss me?