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It's been four days since I've had a cigarette. How am I doing? Not too terrible. I don't know what all the fuss about quitting is. I haven't really been stressed out or angry. Maybe people just use it as an excuse to be an ass-hole to everyone, as if it was there fault that they started smoking in the first place. It's amazing how quickly I forget what it feels like to not smoke. I guess there's this fear of what it will do to you if you don't have a cigarette at a certain time. Right after work, cup of tea, favorite album, book, sitting on the windowsill staring at the darkening sky. With a beer, walking through the city. Mid-afternoon on the weekend, letting the sun warm my face with a cup of coffee in my pajamas before my flatmates get up. All of those moments that you think you can't live without. After four days, it's hard to imagine that I ever did. I'm sure I'll have at least one more before I die.
Saturday is my birthday and as much as I've tried to hide it, people have found out. I'll be 24. That seems really old to me, but I've really only just started everything. I've gotten through the angst of High School, survived the fun of college, and am in the midst of the post-college-working-day blues still trying to fight being a sell-out and trying desperately to remain cool. People say that the music you listen to in college is what you'll listen to for the rest of your life. Maybe the music that you listen to straight out of college sticks with you more though. I can see myself at 30 putting on Neon Bible on vinyl in my apartment in wherever I end up. I feel musically stifled here. I used to hear and talk about new music all the time at the coffee shop. Always getting into new things. I've found Deezer.com which has a rock radio player. Right now I'm listening to a song called "Alcohaulin' Ass" by Hell Yeah. It's not perfect, but they do play Cake and the Doors and all of the random songs and bands that I would never listen to independently.
The quest for the future continues. I've realized that maybe it's best to live first (do the things that make you happy) and worry about what you "do" for a living later. I mean, work doesn't define who you are and what kind of difference you make in the world. I do care about what I do here. I think it's important that kids get a good education and that it's not done by crazy, conservative women. But, I don't think I'm the best person for that job. But the important thing about life is not what you do to make money, it's what you do with it after you leave work. Piss it away on booze, hoping to get laid, or maybe even make a connection with another person? Spend it on drugs in order to wrap yourself in the warm, numbness of unreality, watching movies, escaping the harsh life of suburban destruction? Save it for the rainy day that comes the day after you die? Travel, see the world, hobbies, books, music, furniture, video games, food, sex? For now, that's what I'm focusing on. I feel good. I haven't smoked in four days. We'll see how it goes. I'll write more when I'm twenty-four.