I quit smoking three weeks ago.
I’ve worked twelve hours today, smoked the better part of a pack, consumed a good 10 ounces of bourbon, 2 beers and some eighteen year old Caol Ila scotch whiskey. Now I’ve smoked a good one and am listening to “Sometimes” by Langhorne Slim off of his self titled album.
I realize, after conversation with my friend Orangutan, that I just don’t really care. I won’t elaborate on this. I just won’t. I will however say that it doesn’t really matter and I have to seek my own happiness. I can’t let myself be held back by the ghosts of my own wanton ways. I do of course mean (of a cruel or violent action) deliberate and unprovoked and not sexually immodest or promiscuous.. This comes from the dictionary. I can’t live my life by someone else’ wants.
Also, I really do have a tendency to make snap judgments about people, leaving them with the burden of proof that they aren’t who I assumed them to be. It’s a weakness of mine. More often than not things turn out fine in the end and honestly, I am often right. This said, it’s not fair and it often causes me to accuse people of things or of being a certain way that I don’t like. It really isn’t fair.