smoke and mirrors

i like to smoke. sometimes the only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning is a carcinogenic drag of brownish blue vapor tinged with chemicals and sometimes a strange minty aftertaste. and maybe some small part of me is glad about that seven minutes i take off my life with each butt in the ashtray. it's the physical representation of my emotional need to sabotage myself. it's my post grunge veiled attempt to be emo since i don't like to cut myself.

i mean i do sabotage myself all the time. the recent episode with a certain bdc goes to show that. every time things are normal for a while i make sure it all comes crashing down because i like to feel sorry for myself. the horrible part is that i know this. and i'm writing about it here....

on a brighter note: