do you remember the days...or did you forget?
since i haven't been smoking, i've been
trying to find other activities to take
up the time that i used to spend smoking.
THIS IS FUCKING HARD...I do everything
smoking...not just certain tasks...just
about everyhting...walking, writing,
breathing....it doesn't get any easier...
i guess i picked the wrong time of year
to quit smoking...cuz it feels even more
difficult knowing that i don't have some-
-thing to occupy myself with when I'm
bored. I suppose thinking would work; but
even then, i can't help thinking about the
same obscure questions: What does it mean
to be a person motion? If i were an inani-
-mate object, which object would i be? would
i be a pen...able to graze the surface of every
page ever so slightly, with a dilligence
that could turn the would on its side?..or
would i be a key on the piano...and every
time i would be played...i would rise up
above the rest of the notes and allow my
voice to be heard....simple and grand....
i can't make up my mind...it wouldn't be
fair to rest of the objects in my life...
to single out...there i go...never YOU mind
about that....you could say i'm just
feeling lost in my own craziness again...but
without a crutch to stand on....alas...i
digress without any real point. I guess i
should go back to work....whatever that means...
cuz what i do....couldn't possibly be considered
"work"...pants
trying to find other activities to take
up the time that i used to spend smoking.
THIS IS FUCKING HARD...I do everything
smoking...not just certain tasks...just
about everyhting...walking, writing,
breathing....it doesn't get any easier...
i guess i picked the wrong time of year
to quit smoking...cuz it feels even more
difficult knowing that i don't have some-
-thing to occupy myself with when I'm
bored. I suppose thinking would work; but
even then, i can't help thinking about the
same obscure questions: What does it mean
to be a person motion? If i were an inani-
-mate object, which object would i be? would
i be a pen...able to graze the surface of every
page ever so slightly, with a dilligence
that could turn the would on its side?..or
would i be a key on the piano...and every
time i would be played...i would rise up
above the rest of the notes and allow my
voice to be heard....simple and grand....
i can't make up my mind...it wouldn't be
fair to rest of the objects in my life...
to single out...there i go...never YOU mind
about that....you could say i'm just
feeling lost in my own craziness again...but
without a crutch to stand on....alas...i
digress without any real point. I guess i
should go back to work....whatever that means...
cuz what i do....couldn't possibly be considered
"work"...pants