. . . zeit-bites . . . & on the 4th day I will be putting out your damn lights . . .

I am in my fourth week of not smoking. Below is a post I started writing on my fourth day of being a non-smoker. I was feeling pretty nasty. So, I stopped writing it. I thought I’d start blogging again when I found a bit of balance.

Alas, this has not occurred. In fact, what seems to be occurring is a sort of clarification of scarifying thoughts and emotions I have long submerged by nicotine-numbing them. My longing to act out on these urges and submerges has prompted me to delete my Tumblr, my Pinterest, and I am vacillating on deleting my Twitter and Facebook.

Were I not currently so lacking in agency and perhaps a little less addicted to this hyper-exhibitionist culture in which we live, I might finally disconnect myself from people – period. And I mean that in every way you might want to take it.

I have stories I can’t tell. I used to care. Now I don’t. In the words of two of my friends who used to argue with me about this but have now converted – all on their own – “People suck.”

Yep. And lie. And betray. And treat you like shit. And use you when they’re down to lift them up then dump you when you’re down. And … see, this is why I am probably going to delete this blog too . . .

Anyway – here’s the one I didn’t publish from day four – with the worst parts edited out:

 

Fourth day without smoking.

I’m a little bitchy. Well, moody. Sensitive. Like, say, a test strip – which has been dipped in sulfuric acid. Prone to dissolve. Like the Wicked Witch after being bucket doused by the teen in the jewelled slippers.

(SIDE NOTE: That whole “douse him with a bucket – he’s to blame thing” pretty much happened to me yesterday morning, in fact, only, I didn’t actually melt – just pretended to so I could disappear and be left the hell alone.)

My oral fixation is fairly severe. It’s not the nicotine I miss so much as it is the sucking. I have laid in a supply of Giant Slim Jims, and I am chomping away on these with great vigor. Passion, almost. It’s actually sort of repulsive. And sad.

Three days without smoking. Long time. But I am following all sorts of advice. In addition to the Slim Jims, I am sucking on straws. Drinking hourly doses of juice. Trying not to eat myself into oblivion by virtually drowning myself in water and coffee.

Of course, the world – being the world – rises up to greet me with one after another challenge to my determination 1)never to smoke again and 2)not to allow what I know is a temporary chemical imbalance to cause me to EXPLODE into fury.

With that in mind, I’ve tried to maintain radio silence on social media; because I must confess, I have had more than one urge to PUT SOMEONE’S DAMN LIGHTS OUT. Which, in a twisted sort of way, is an appropriate act for my fourth day. Although the Genesis “creation” myth is clearly stolen – well – evolved from Mesopotamian sources – the whole created the sun and the stars thing supposedly happened on day four.

I’m CREATING a new me by DESTROYING old, harmful habits – so, on day four, seems fair I should melt a few witches myself. I’ve got some things to say. Let me post some shit on Facebook to –

STOP. Not gonna do it.

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