Saturday, December 22, 2012
Diary of a Nonsmoker: day one. my brain involuntarily flashing a cigarette in my hand lighting the end. Withdrawal feels like promises of happiness. Disphoria, body tingles all over like I’m bending. This pit of my stomach craving ingestion. Brain flutters ideas of what could fill me. I’m currently drinking mint tea to keep the vortex from focusing on starches and candies. Drinking a glass of cranberry juice for the sugar boost. It’s the images in my head and the body halls that I find the hardest. They promise me so much, If I just cave into the day dream. Even now, I want to end this sentence with a cigarette.
waves. I’m taking a nap.
Slept all day, now sick to my stomach.
Feeling surreal when nothing surreal is going on, I decide to go grocery shopping. Jim takes over driving the cart, he keeps calling my attention back, “hey zombie”. My motor skills stuttering he opens the bottles while we sample smells of body wash – impromptu aromatherapy. It’s not until the dish soap aisle when I discover inhaling lemon scratches the spot in my head popping hallucinations of breath catch then hold the wafting carcinogens eating a nice little buzz on the back of my brain before exhaling. Yeah, lemon scratches that.
My friend is patient with my ambivalence in making decisions. I’m out of it like a hippie. I feel drunk without alcohol. Withdraw is not so bad, except the pictures rolling around in my head. Little earthquakes of radar, bouncing off my skin and shocking the muscles. I am cautious. Cuidado. I can see myself zoning out to the point where I manifest the cigarette in my hand welcoming the hallucination into reality. Fuck, I do love to inhale.
Jim keeping me company, I do not slip away. Instead I chew a straw, sniff the lemon soap until day one is done and its time to go to bed.