Just Like a Woman

Lent is upon us, my friends, and it's about time I became a good person again. I'm giving up the hardest thing in the world to give up (at least, for me). What? WEED. I went from a rare smoker to an inebriated smoker to a social smoker to an everyday smoker to an everyday plus benefits smoker. Basically, my thought process went a lil' like this: Go to class,  feel bored  ->go smoke. It's freezing outside/the wind is raping my face and I have to walk all the way to Humanities. Twice today.  -> go smoke. There's a crazy weird movie added to Netflix. -> go smoke. I'm bored and I don't want to do homework. -> go smoke. I just really fucked up. -> go smoke. Almost time for dinner -> go smoke. THE OLYMPICS ARE ON! -> go smoke. The Olympics are not on. -> go smoke. My car's dirty. -> go smoke- IN THE CARWASH! 

Basically, I'm not smoking to have fun anymore. And from what I remember, I don't have fun. The thing is, I barely remember anything when I smoke. It's like a self-adhered amnesia that I apply in an ever-thickening coat. My friend and I have talked about this before, how there are holes in our memories from our nights spent with Blueberry, White Widow, and Purple Haze. Even once, we discussed something, and after a brief, momentary distraction we already had that memory slipping through our fingers. We were losing it, and we were conscious of us losing it, but we couldn't do anything about it and then it was gone. I want to feel things again, really feel things. Not the numb, hyped-up "freedom" that takes control of my senses when I smoke. Except for on Sundays. I'll save that feeling for Sundays.   

"If someone smokes you out, you have to tell them the truth."