I haven’t smoked a cigarette in 18 days. You’d think I’d be proud of myself, but all I want is to smoke a cigarette. Still, I haven’t yet and I’m just getting by day by day so far. In fact, I have been pretty holed up in my house so I won’t go out and buy a pack. I’ve been doing that on purpose, but the other day I was able to go out and see the Eva Hesse movie with a few of my friends in Santa Monica.
This post has no pictures, as far as I can tell. I’m just opening up the interface and typing – willy-nilly. All I’ve been doing and living for is distraction lately. I am trying to quit smoking again. I hate even announcing that in fear that it’s not going to stick, but I am on day nine. You’d think that I’d be over the worst of it, but I am not. I am suffering. I am depressed. I am having terrible withdraw symptoms. I am not crying all day, everyday like I was, but I am grieving still.
I just got back from Joshua Tree with mjp and Gemma. We were only there for a few days this time and we did a whole lotta nuthin. No art. No writing. We mostly just starred off into space and watched the jackrabbits pass by.
