…has been my savior for a while now, since the age of fourteen, to be more precise.
I was rather depressed back then, those were my emo days, coincidentally the same time I started writing lyrics and eventually poetry. It was around the same time that something happened in my life that changed me, something that reoccured enough to keep me down. So I’d light a cigarette and smoke till I couldn’t think anymore. I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone, but I find that when I smoke I don’t think much, my mind becomes blank, the slate is wiped clean. And so I smoked, and smoked, and smoked.
I didn’t stop until some time this year, when a random stranger convinced me to quit smoking, it was the sincerity in his words that got me. Why would someone who barely knows me, has nothing to do with me, want me to quit? But he convinced me, and so for 2 months I stayed off of cigarettes. The first three weeks were hell, particularly the third. I would start shivering when I got the urge, and try to sleep it off. My aunt pointed out to me that I curled up into the fetal position when I did this, apparently that meant something. After about 2 and a half months I couldn’t be bothered anymore. I didn’t feel the urge at all, but I felt like it wasn’t such a bad thing so I started again.
Nowadays I just smoke maybe 2 to 3 cigs a day, which actually isn’t too bad at all, considering the 5 to 8 I’d have before. But I’ve had a really bad cough since Thursday, and I think the cigs have a lot to do with it. So I’m going to ween off of them for a while, maybe even stop smoking entirely for a month or two. I’m not quitting, though, I don’t think I ever will. Because this my drug is my saviour.