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ericboy's Diaryland Diary

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\"I have come to surface to catch some light and feed / and I have everything I need\" - Hum

Saturday night after work, I smoked a cigarette with my roommate and one of the managers outside of Border's while we talked smack about stuff in general. Then, I tossed the butt of the cigarette into the ash tray and said aloud "You know, I don't think I'm going to smoke anymore." It wasn't a pressured decision or a life-or-death ultimatum; I just decided that it cost too much and made me stink and I didn't need it anymore. Since then, I haven't had one. It's been almost five whole days without a cigarette. Sure, there've been times when I thought I wanted one, but I always knew that I didn't need it, so I just let it go. Tuesday night was funny, because I went out drinking with my friend Doug from Hollywood Video, and he still smokes. I would make him go outside and smoke a cigarette.

"Alright; It's about that time. You want a cigarette!"

"I do?"

"Yes, you do. Come on."

And we'd head out to the smoking patio and I'd watch him smoke a cigarette. And it wasn't for the second-hand smoke, either. I just enjoyed watching him smoke. I've been so surprisingly calm all week despite the decision and various outside stresses that I'm disturbed by it all. I'm afraid that I'm smoking in my sleep or something. A somnambulist smoker, perhaps.

I'm very pleased with my decision and the progress that I've made. I mean, completely cold turkey! I've thought a couple of times "You know, I could smoke a cigarette right now and no one would know" but I don't because I would know. I didn't quit smoking for anyone else. In fact, most people think I'm fucking crazy for quitting right now. I stopped smoking for myself, so if I do remiss, I'll be letting myself down. So I don't.

I got a part in a one-act comedy called "Simple" that will be performed at the Fault-Line Theater on fifth street in Hillcrest at the end of the month. I play a smart-ass cashier at a comic book / video store, so I pretty much don't even have to act. And my quitting smoking adds a bit of extra venom to my role. The script is, well, simple, and a lot of fun. I'm just mostly happy because I'm on stage again.

I've been a wreck all week long. I've been working out, doing push-ups and sit-ups before I go to bed. I can't sleep. I toss and turn for hours and my skin burns. Inside, I feel repulsive and unworthy of humanity. I suppose that's why I'm striving to be better on the outside, with the working out and the quitting smoking and attaining stage roles. All exercises to say "Look at me; I'm a good guy with healthy habits and a penchant for entertaining. Like me!" Because I know, I proved to myself, that inside I am a very ugly person who is capable or deplorable acts of human cruelty. I can't look at myself in the mirror. I can't spend any time alone with myself. I'm constantly doing something, anything.

I will punish myself until I think I've learned my lesson. I'm a horrible learner.

8:39 p.m. - 2004-04-08

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