every morning i wake up, (thankfully, and albeit 2 or 3 hours after falling asleep) thankful that I don't have to smoke or drink anymore, thankful that i've finally come to my senses. The days of coughing my guts up in the morning, brushing my teeth and nearly spewing, bent double in the bathroom are things I don't really miss to be honest, how could anyone ever
need a fag? it's hit me like a stone tonight, what could inhaling filthy smoke possibly give you apart from everything i've just mentioned and more terrifying diseases than you dare bare think about. Courage? calm? does smoking
really de-stress you? how the fuck could it?! all it does is make you crave the next, and the next, and before you know it you're smoking more than ever, sitting sullen at the kitchen table wondering what the fuck you're doing, shouting at the kids, telling them to get the fuck out of whatever room it is you're smoking in, making yourself miserable and depressed, losing your self respect, doing something you despise and slowly killing yourself in the process. I admit, the idea of the occasional smoke
sounds enjoyable, with a pint on a hot day maybe, but there is no such thing, it does not exist because one's never going to be enough, the next one taste's horrid, but you still smoke it and that disgusting filthy chain starts all over again. The hatred, the anger and the depression return with haste and fester inside you until your next attempt to quit. Drink's just as bad for me, a few days off deserves a 4 day bender as a reward, hahaha- sapped of all energy, skint, miserable, depressed, aye what a fucking treat. I should have packed it all in years ago, I haven't enjoyed any of that shit for ages, nostalgic, whimsical dreams are what i think kept me going so long, meeting with the lads and getting smashed on cider and wine, fags and joints and whatever's going, was I really enjoying myself? is anybody in any of those circles really actually enjoying it anymore? I think the majority are hooked on romantic notions of how things used to be, getting pissed in the park, the first fag, the first joint, the first trip, speeding your tits off in the disco, but it's all bollocks, we all know deep down we can never get it back, it's over, dead, we're meant to be men now. i think it's a lot to do with that, the fear of having to grow up, hiding from our responsibilities, reminiscing over your childhood, the simplicity and the school, football, tea, football, sleep and school cycle, the innocence of it all, that petrol station and the tonka truck and the toy cars, you loved them, you want to go back, and you probably could via ebay or a jumble sale, but would you?
well, probably, aye.
