(no subject)
I have officially started smoking again. Even though Carla laughed when I told her and claimed that I had never stopped. I had. But now I'm back. I bought a pack, well two, this past week. And let me tell you, they were sent from the gods. I live nicotine. I love the rush of light-headedness that goes to my brain. I love how my problems seem okay with a cigarette in my hands. I love how I am able to relax, even in the worst circumstances, when I am smoking. I know, I know...apparently they are bad for you. They are trouble, like that crush you know you shouldn't have but you have anyway. I know that if smoken enough (does that make sense) then cancer is a possibility. And I don't want cancer. I'm too much of a hypocondriach to be smoking. But I'm STRESSED. I'm stressed as hell and I need a release. Seriously though, I'm gonna stop smoking when I go back home, which is in DAYS because I am not a smoker in LA. For now though, I'm a smoker. Sometimes even a chain smoker. I like my Parliments.