[July 18th 12:30 a.m.]
Is there a moment in your life where those cancer-sticks suddenly become your best buddies? I question the logic behind it although the reason itself is already crystal-clear to me. At those times where work is a bitch, the disgruntled employee takes a puff, maybe two. A prostitute takes a puff after a session of serving those horny bastards. The chick with a curvy ass outside a mall puffed to exemplify her upper-society status. Dozens of bald accountants puff after cracking their heads crunching those god-damned numbers. That’s me, without the bald part though. I was actually embarking on a quitting program days ago. Health surprisingly became a concern to me. Breathing became easier too after cutting down. Surprisingly as I was feeling at my lowest tonight, the program was tossed to the back of mind and like those addicts above, reaching out for the stick was all I cared for. It was 11 p.m. and I had just finished my work. Without her SMS today, I was again lost in translation. The distance is killing me, again. Without any hope or agenda, I reached for my stick one after another straight after I stepped out from the office. As the wisemen said once, ‘there is always something to be gained, no matter how hopeless the situation is’. Although I felt lousy most of the times nowadays, I am more inclined towards writing a short passage everyday. It is something I look forward to after a long day of work, no SMS, diminished caring and you name it. Promises to call accompanied by delayed callings boosts my insecurity towards this relationship. I just had another 5 sticks in a chain. Quitting is only the beginning…
Is there a moment in your life where those cancer-sticks suddenly become your best buddies? I question the logic behind it although the reason itself is already crystal-clear to me. At those times where work is a bitch, the disgruntled employee takes a puff, maybe two. A prostitute takes a puff after a session of serving those horny bastards. The chick with a curvy ass outside a mall puffed to exemplify her upper-society status. Dozens of bald accountants puff after cracking their heads crunching those god-damned numbers. That’s me, without the bald part though. I was actually embarking on a quitting program days ago. Health surprisingly became a concern to me. Breathing became easier too after cutting down. Surprisingly as I was feeling at my lowest tonight, the program was tossed to the back of mind and like those addicts above, reaching out for the stick was all I cared for. It was 11 p.m. and I had just finished my work. Without her SMS today, I was again lost in translation. The distance is killing me, again. Without any hope or agenda, I reached for my stick one after another straight after I stepped out from the office. As the wisemen said once, ‘there is always something to be gained, no matter how hopeless the situation is’. Although I felt lousy most of the times nowadays, I am more inclined towards writing a short passage everyday. It is something I look forward to after a long day of work, no SMS, diminished caring and you name it. Promises to call accompanied by delayed callings boosts my insecurity towards this relationship. I just had another 5 sticks in a chain. Quitting is only the beginning…