Young Geoffrey (ed_rex) wrote,
Young Geoffrey

In Memoriam or, Look Ma! I'm a Time-Traveller!

Five cigarettes remain in their sleeve, five slender white cylinders of death, five more hits of the drug that has been my monkey for too close to a quarter century.

This is it.

(A quarter million down, five to go.)

I'm quitting. Damn it, this time I'm really going to do it, no matter how much the little voice in the back of my head begs and pleads, lies and manipulates; no matter how bitchy I get, no matter how depressed or angry I become.

I'm quitting.

(A quarter million down, five to go.)

Goodbye to the after-meal smoke; goodbye to the morning toke; goodbye to stained teeth and tarry phlegm; goodbye to the calming rituals and the smoldering break-timer; goodbye to hazy drunken nights and after-hockey puffs; goodbye to gelid fingers and reeking apartment.

Goodbye. Though you've been nothing but a murderous burden, a sadistic yoke, a pair of handcuffs on my freedom, I'll miss you.

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