I am quitting. (Part 2)
You thought I wasn't serious?
According to google it takes your body three days to be rid of nicotine…I promised I’d be in better shape this time around. Eh? What do you think? You smell that? Fresh, mountain air! My skin’s looking better, no? Step in, let me show you around. What’s that? Oh, that fence-and-tarp covering that dusty area over there? Never mind that. Let me give you a fresh tour of the place.
To start at the top, my nappy hair has undergone some slight improvement already, although, that might be due to my increased ingestion of liquids. A new habit: Oral fixation by way of a variety of zero-cal sparkling waters.
My skin—did I already mention that? I didn’t?—Okay, well if you haven’t noticed it’s looking a little better after just three days, can you believe it? It’s a new landscape on my face, new roofing now without my pores having to act like chimneys to the chemical factory I had running in my mouth and throat.
Which takes me to my teeth and gums. They feel significantly less septic, which has improved my self-esteem a great deal. The kernel-like teeth are still sporting their bronzing, but now that that journey is less futile I might be more motivated to get on the whitening caravan (Ick, I’ll become one of them, you know the type I’m talking about). Going lower, the noticeable improvements extend to a wellness in the throat, something that’s easy to take for granted. I remember how much I felt the need to cough and spit just a few days ago.
Recall the length of the nicotine flush I mentioned? While I looked at that I found some other facts of the home-improvement type (not necessarily smoking-related): Skin cells are replaced every thirty-nine days; Red blood cells are replaced every one-hundred and twenty days; And the entire skeleton is replaced every ten years. Crazy, no? A sign that we can really, truly cleanse ourselves from the abuse of chemicals down to the very core of our beings, literally. Together, one day we can be the proud owners of an all-new, non-smoking, clean energy, eco-friendly, TSA approved body!
(Oh, the lungs, you wonder, apparently it takes them up to nine months to repair. That’s quick if you ask me. But don’t quote me on any of this, I just googled things with a delirious need for validation. Google images at that too—a graphic—I couldn’t even bother reading a proper article)
I could keep going with my graphic-borrowed stats—it’s very interesting, actually—but as soothing and sobering as my visible improvements and scientific facts can be, they can only do so much in the irrational mind of a smoker. Stats are nice but have they ever really affected us? Have we ever really cared? We’ve known them all along! I can prove to you how irrational I am by admitting that I genuinely think smoking is a beautiful thing. I have to accept it. Rehabilitation is all about being honest, no? Or maybe it is that life is beautiful and cigarettes just give that fact an additional emphasis. Smoking can be an enhancement of a sunset, a walk in the night, a morning coffee. Isn’t it? It is. Please don’t shame me. Alright, shame me, I deserve it.
It is often brought up that these feelings come from being brainwashed by Hollywood and what lingers from the days when cigarettes were advertised favorably. But I would argue that the sensuality of the cigarette came before the advert. Let’s not mistake things here. The beauty is intrinsic, for not even science—humanity’s most beautiful practice before singing and smoking and storytelling—has been able to turn us off to it. Cigarettes are beautiful…but…much in the same way, maybe, that a mushroom cloud can be beautiful; or a snotty, smoggy, phlegmy, apocalyptic LA sunset can be beautiful; or solar flares; or a tragic life.
Forgive me for talking about the beauty of smoking again. Am I repeating myself? It doesn’t escape me that I might sound like some nihilistic teenager but I promise you the sentiment is more mature than that! Will you take me on that promise? I’ve not a good track record have I? Well I’m changing that now, aren’t I? I’m sorry I’m not in as good a shape as I expected!
Forgive me for yelling at you, you’re the last person to deserve it. As you can see I’m still dealing with a bit of irritability as part of the withdrawal process. This comes along with spells of attention deficit and a displacement feeling that I can only compare to that of when you hop off of the treadmill after a good-masochistic session with it. You feel the world rolling and moving without you, enjoying itself without you. That’s how I feel. Left behind, unable to appreciate the world around me without the slim companion limping on my lip.
The truth is, with all my attempted optimism, (which I know it might not be much), in the brain, the nicotine telephone still rings every few minutes. If I hadn’t anything to do I could ignore it more easily. But I’m trying to get on with my day! Shut up, okay?!
It looks beautiful outside. It calls for me.
It was nice, enjoying the sunset without a cigarette. Which says everything about the beauty of nature but nothing about the sweet company of a cigarette. But I have to carry on.
When am I going to believe that quitting was a good idea? I keep wondering.
The morals Gernoymous! The morals of it all!
It’s getting late, thank you for stopping by. I know I said I’d be in better shape, believe me, I was, but things shift by the minute over here. In an instant, a traffic jam. A cursing protester. Sirens. Telephones. Emails. Mail. Money. Bills!
Three days and counting for me. No, actually, 4320 minutes and counting is more like it. Let’s catch up later, I have things to sort out. Thanks for stopping by. Drive home safe. Your presence was almost as enjoyable a cig. Thanks for putting up with me.
You keep looking at that fence-and-tarp? Huh? Alright, whatever let’s walk over there. I’ll show you.
Behind it, I’m building something. A new me. I’m just embarrassed about it. Anyways, yes, a new me. Here, see this picture zip-tied to the fence? It’s a 3D rendered model of what I’ll look like in the future. Look at the set of choppers on me. Look at me, I have healthy 3D modeled children and have promising prospects to get to know my grandchildren too! I’ve also, in this picture of the future me, acquired a new physique since part of my growth has included going to the gym and eating more subtly and therefore healthier. That’s what I think eating healthy is about, subtlety. When will I get my super-human tastebuds back? Do you know? Search it up and let me know. Anyways, back to the 3D rendered version of me, I have radiant, young skin too. I know the 3D artists were too nice to me, but who knows! Don’t laugh at me.
It’ll take some time to get there but I will be completed someday. A man of great habits I’ll become! You don’t believe me? I’m starting this coming week. Look over here, we have a list of our next construction phases for the coming days:
One: Finally try the Sensory Deprivation Tank and wrestle your nicotine-addicted brain.
Three: Go to the beach and get in touch with your non-smoking-child-self
Three: Go to the gym and produce some ethically-sourced dopamine you lazy bum!
I’ve already appointments in schedule and all. I’ll tell you all about it next time. Why, yes. Thank you. Thank you. That’s alright. Thanks for coming. Sorry for taking too much of your time. You’ve been lovely. Until next time.
About the Creator
Geronymous J.
Good evening, take a look around, and let me know if you have any questions. It's suppossed to rain tonight, did you hear?
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