I must look like a moron at work.
A few years ago I decided to quit smoking. I was successful for two weeks before I quit quitting. I knew I was going to quit. I made a whole ceremony of it. I planned my last pack. I assigned each cigarette its own little meaning. I made a kind of personal production of the whole ordeal. I had my last cigarette at a predetermined time, and marked each breath of it. Then I put out that last one, and gave up forever. For two weeks. That two weeks had a lot of ups and downs.
You see, smoking is a romance. It's a love affair.
It doesn't matter how gross, or disgusting other people find it. Only those who do, or have done it, can truly understand all the wonderful things about smoking. And there are many wonderful things. It feels good. It's zen. It's a great excuse for so many things.
Nobody ever talks about the good things. In fact, we are so incredibly focused on every single negative aspect that it's impossible to talk about the good things. Well, I'm here to say there are good things.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not promoting it. In fact...
Well in fact...
So a few days ago I was walking home from work, and pulled out the last cigarette from my pack. I was marking in my mind that I'd need to stop by the smoke shop on my way home, and pick up a new pack. And then I though...Nah.
I started smoking in April of 2004. It is now 2014. Ten years. Ten full years I've been a smoker. I'm 40 now. Which means a full 25 percent of my life has been spent as a smoker. It's been said that if you don't start smoking by the time you're 25 years old, you probably never will. I stand as an exception to that rule. Of course I've also dedicated much of my life to defying rules, so this comes as no real surprise.
A full quarter of my life spent smoking cigarettes.
So I said nah.
That was it. There was no ceremony. There was no marking at any moment that I was going to quit. That this would be my last cigarette. I just...threw it away, and went home without stopping at the smoke shop for a new pack.
That was June 3, 5:15 p.m.
Two days. Just two days. Last time I made it two weeks before I collapsed and returned to the love affair. As of writitng this I'm only two days in. Nowhere near long enough to claim success. Not even remotely.
I'm not going to say I'm quitting. "Quitting" is not a real verb. It isn't. You have either quit, or will quit, but you can't be quitting. "Quitting", in reality is still just doing. I will not say I've quit until I've passed the point of drinking the cocktail that is a constant state of pure panic, desire, and will power all fighting each other. I'm just starting that phase...so nowhere near past it.
One thing that is different this time is the vape. I've got the liquid vaporizor. I'm able to constantly infuse myself with nicotine. Which is much much much different than cigarettes, which is at the moment what I'm attempting to give up.
It helps. It does.
But it's not the same. Sucking on a vape when you want a cigarette is much like being incredibly hungry, and being offered one M&M.
I'm currently purchasing the highest nicotine level juice. Once I get past the need for an actual cigarette, I'll start tapering the nicotine as well.
Or...you know...who knows. Maybe I'll quit quitting again, and be back with a cigarette in my mouth between the time I write all this, and the time you read it.
Another thing is I did eventually buy another pack. See, my vape runs on a battery, that I pretty much kill by 6 p.m. It has to sit on it's charger for a few hours to become usable again. I have pretty specific plans for that pack, and so far have followed those rules to the letter. I don't carry it with me. The cigarettes stay in my bedroom. I keep them, no longer in my pocket, but on the nightstand by my bed. I will only allow myself on per hour, for as long as it takes for my vape to recharge. And then once it is usable again, I won't have a cigarette.
Next payday, I'll buy a second vape, so that I'll always have one charged at any given time. At that point the plan is to not buy anymore cigarettes at all.
That's the plan.
I've been keeping to it so far.
But then again, I'm just starting.
My vape won't actually activate unless I press a button. Most of what I do at work every day requires the use of two hands. So most of my day, I'm just standing there, doing whatever it is I'm being paid to do in the moment, with my vape just sort of hanging out of my mouth.
I must look like a moron at work.
So yeah...I haven't quit. I'm not quitting. I've simply implemented a plan to eventually be "have quit".
One of the problems is immediate motivation. I know every long term reason in the world why this is a good idea. I know every single health benefit. I know exactly how much I'll save every year by not buying cigarettes. I know how long it will take for CO2 levels to return to normal. I've researched and read all the changes that will happen. All of the benefits. Every reason to quit smoking. I know them as well or better than any person who attempts to tell me why I should quit. None of this is new information. And for the record, I look forward to every single one of them.
The problem is, when my body is shaking, when I'm coughing up crap out of my lungs, when I literally can't form a cohesive thought in my head. When every single noise, and person around me becomes nothing less than the world's greatest annoyance. When my head aches. My muscles hurt. My lungs are screaming, My hands are shaking, and knowing...knowing absolutely that I can stop all of that in less than a minute with nothing more than the flick of a lighter...well...
None of that long term shit means much at all. With absolutely no reason in the world to go through all of that, other than some idealized fantasy of what life might be like some months, or maybe even years down the road, it's all but impossible to not light up.
Oh well. I've no one to blame but myself. I am at fault for all the shit I go through, and ergo do not seek sympathy or condolence. Motivation to continue, or not...I seem to be continuing...so far...
And the funny thing is, it just sort of came out of nowhere. I didn't decide to do it. I didn't plan to do it. Just like I didn't decide or plan to start. I'm just...doing it. We'll see where it all goes I guess.
Another horrible side effect of the whole nicotine deficiency thing. It becomes incredibly hard to...
Thinking is like...I dunno...probably like my third favorite thing to do. A lack of nicotine makes this nearly impossible. It doesn't shut down my brain. In fact nearly the opposite. Synapses in my spongy mass are firing at an incredible rate, but it's impossible to make sense of any of it. I can't focus on any particular thing. I'm super ADD, and it's annoying as fuck.
I'm the type of person that almost never forms an immediate opinion about anything. I simply observe, and gather all available information, and file it in my brain for further examination later. I take all sides of any argument, put it away somewhere, and look at it later, from all sides, and go from there. This is a long process. I'm currently unable to do that, because my brain is sort of taking every piece of information up there, and throwing it at me all at once. There is a hurricane in my mind, and I'm trying to pick very small, very specific pieces from the flying debris. So forgive me the stream of consciousness. You can stop reading at any time if you'd like. I won't be offended. You can't possibly, ever, offend me. For the past few weeks, I've had a LOT on my mind, and now in the midst of nicotine deprivation, it's all regurgitating at an incredible rate. It's chaos up in here.
The Tao Te Ching is the only book I've ever read, that I didn't have to adopt any of the philosophies, because it was already what I had internalized as my own. I had no clue that this 3000 year old book of philosophy had encapsulated all of my own philosphies that I had made my own simply through the experience of my own life.
Sometime in the 1960's, a bunch of acid dropping hippies combined the Tao Te Ching with Greek mythology, and a world history of Conspiracy theories into a fake religion, and called it discordiansism. Here is their bible.
Principia Discordia
Read it. Or don't. It's pretty damn funny.
Discordiansim is a fake religion, much like FSM. A response to religion, by atheists, in an attempt to confront ideas of religion in a satirical way. It's been around for a few decades now. Pre dating FSM by about 40 years. Now I'm kinda like the flipside of the religious nut. Always thinking about FSM, "My fake religion is better than your fake religion."
Good times.
One idea posited by discordianism (among many) is that true communication is only possible between equals.
I adhere to this. I will communicate with everyone I know, with complete honesty, as long as I deem that the other person veiws our relationship as equal. I hold myself on no intellectual, spiritual, or moral level higher, or lower than anyone else. As long as I am dealt with in like manner, we are in fact equal, and I will always communicate honestly. If I deem that the other person is making any attempt to make our relationship unequal by placing themselves on some higher ground, intellectually, spiritually, or morally...then my dishonest communication will begin with great delight.
I also delight in honesty. And I guess I am about to get goddamn honest.
I've been reading for the past couple weeks how men sexualizing women is wrong. I'm here to say...no it isn't.
Now before you tag me MRA, get pissed, call me misogynist bastard, or whatever...bear with me.
If you're female, and I've met you, I have imagined you naked. I have run through all sorts of various and sundry act of debauchery with you in my imagination. I've thought about it. I pictured it. And I did it all somewhere between "Hello" and "Nice to meet you."
In that amount of time I have taken note of how low your neckline is. Every curve of your body. I know exactly how much skin you're showing, and where you're showing it. I know if you're wearing a ring. I've noticed how you're wearing your hair. I know what you smell like. I can estimate with a relative degree of accuracy your bra size, and depending on what you're wearing, what color it is. I know how tall you are. The shape of your eyes. The shape of your mouth. Your face. I've noticed your hands. Your neck. The whole of you from top to bottom. I've done this in about 3 seconds.
I am not any type of Sherlock Holmes. I also don't in any way pretend to speak for the whole of my half of the species. I also don't believe for one second that I'm an anomoly. I'm a guy. That's it. This is all information that I process at a glance, and in a moment. I do this because I am biologically programmed to do this.
And although I'll never pretend to know or understand the female mind, I would be willing to bet that if you are female, you do much the same with a great many people that you interact with daily. And probably at such a lower level of consciousness that it goes for a large part...unnoticed. Much like it goes unnoticed with me when I do it. It's automatic.
If we didn't sexualize each other, we would no longer exist as a species. Sex is at our core. It is what we do.
Whatever.
Sexualizing one another, in and of itself is not at all wrong.
There are however, many things wrong with what happens next.
It is wrong, for all men, or women, to believe that someone is obligated to give sex. Ever. For any reason.
It is wrong to feel that you deserve sex.
It is wrong to feel that someone owes you something.
It is wrong to take...EVER...something that isn't offered.
It is wrong to believe that simiply because you have experienced a fantasy, a thought, or a feeling, that you have some right...at any cost...to make that a reality.
It is wrong to force your ideas on someone else.
It is wrong to expect.
It is wrong to take.
I think ultimately the greatest wrong is to not honestly communicate. Which is why I make this attempt now...to honestly communicate...because that I think is what we're lacking more than anything. Honest communication.
Instead of teaching a person how to handle their own thoughts, fantasies, and biological programming and urges. We simply teach them that those things are "wrong".
We're not teaching how to be human, we're simply teaching shame for being such.
Anyone who knows me, knows already that I can't be shamed, I will not shame, and I have a HUGE problem with all forms of shame in general. I've climbed up on that soapbox so many times, it seems almost tedious to do so again.
Fuck anyone who would shame you for your body.
Fuck anyone who would shame you for what you do with it.
Fuck anyone wou would shame you for your feelings.
Fuck anyone who would make you feel, in anyway bad, for not being, living, thinking, acting, eating, doing, or in anyway behaving in any type of manner, that they for some reason have taken upon themselves to disapprove of.
Fuck them all.
I personally only have one rule for life. One. Just one.
Do not, with intent, initiate harm on another human being.
I use the words intent, and initiate, very specifically.
I also think that shame..is harm. I won't do it. I'll defy it wherever I see it.
*Steps down from soapbox*
I know that I've been on top of a pretty hot topic here. I also feel that I've communicated poorly. Or...insufficiently. So here's the thing...
If you agree...
If you disagree...
If you adamantly disagree...
If you hate me for what I've written...
Or love me...
Or whatever...
I don't care. I mean, I do...but I don't, in that in and of itself where you stand, or how you feel on the issue is less important to me, than your willingness to do as I have done. Or attempted to do.
Let's take the shame out of it.
Let us engage, without fear, in honest discourse. As equals. Let's communicate. Instead of pointing out all the things that are wrong...
let us together...
Discover what's right.
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