Day 4

Day 4: Via negativia; today, pick a habit that you’d like to eliminate from your life. Bad habits are like armpits, we all have ‘em and they all stink. Whether cutting soda out of your life, or putting a stop to your porn addiction; either way, as with yesterday, think about the steps you’ll take in order to put the kibosh on that negative habit. And again, also think about how you’ll keep yourself accountable to that goal.

(BTW: It's actually 1/10/14 as I write this)

I feel like it's too obvious to just say 'smoking'. I've made it my New Year's Resolution (bullshit) to quit smoking - cigarettes, that is. Haven't even made a New Year's Resolution in my adult life. If there was anything to make one over, it's this. But, before I consider this my 'thing', I should acknowledge here - and to myself - that I think I finally got this one. I mean, I'm only on day 3 of no tobacco/nicotine, but this HAS to happen. Like last year, it'll be easy motivation knowing I've got my fucking biometric screening coming up, and I NEED more moolah! Not to mention, to coincide with my main positive habit that I'm trying to implement, there is no room in my life for cigarettes while trying to get into peak physical condition. They don't exactly help me out when I'm out, running with the dogs, or going swimming or lifting weights at the gym, or whatever… There won't be many cigarettes floating around after the apocalypse. Anyway, I do remember that this fight surely isn't over after a couple days. I went over a month clear, which might as well be home-free at that point. The REALLY hard part is over. Fucking cigarettes, man. In the back of my head, I've always held on to this idea that even when I quit, there'll still be some other cigarette down the road in my life, even if it's just one. But, that idea is poisonous. Fuck 'em! I try to remember how I felt when I was a kid, and I was able to only see them as this disgusting thing that served no purpose. I mean, truly, the 'purpose' of it all is rather ridiculous. For me, realistically, I guess it's to de-stress, mainly. I hate to say that. I don't think I would've said that initially in my smoking career. But, that really is what they are to me now. Especially now that I've taken on a more stressful line of work than I ever expected I would. Especially now that I'm in a shitty marriage as an adult. Especially now that I'm hardly doing anything I really thought I'd be doing in my adult life. I mean, shit!!!!!! Who's fault is that, first of all?! But, I guess that's where cigarettes come in. They sort of take you down a peg. Which, if you're in a good place, I feel like you shouldn't really need. But, the familiarity of it all, and the… I don't know what. It sucks. Honestly, I wasn't even enjoying the actual high of a cigarette at all. I was getting to really hate it. I suppose the only thing I enjoy is inhaling deeply, and exhaling a smoke. Oh yeah, and going outside for several minutes. I actually began to notice that I would hate talking on the phone while having a cigarette, because I felt like it sort of cut into my cigarette time. How is that a thing? I'm still smoking. If anything, I might just be smoking more because I'm a little more tuned out. But, yeah… having a cigarette outside can be very meditative. But… there's the thing. All I really had to do if I wanted to recreate that effect, is to just step outside! A-ha! There ya have it, fellas! We have a genius here! That's really what I was getting out of it. I'm sure the nicotine does what it does. To be honest, I've never really been able to connect that feeling. I've tried to pretend it wasn't a thing. Which is why I've always attempted this sans patch or gum. Fuck nicotine! I assert that it was never nicotine that had a hold on me (even though I'm sure science, and my body, would disagree). It was this need to go outside for a minute, take some deep breaths, and process some shit, before I resumed my life. I think I'll have my breathing back, thanks. I think I'll have my ten-minute breaks back, thanks. I think I'll have my whole fucking life back, thanks. Oh yeah… and I think I'll have my 30%, thanks :)

Day 2

Day 2: Continuing to work within that idea of constraints, try to write a 6-word memoir of your life so far. This idea is rumored to have originated from Papa Hemingway. The benefit is that with only six words, you really have to filter your life to what you deem most important. It may take you many iterations, but you’ll end up with something that speaks largely to who you are, if not in toto, then at least in this moment in time.

Someone that could be, but isn't

Something that should be, but won't

(1/8/14)

Day 1

Okay… some catching up to do on this month-long journal:

[Day 1: Start with answering the question of why you want to journal, and beyond that, why you decided to embark on this 31-day experience. Write out what you’d like to get from journaling.]

I need to journal… not because one of my good friends has suggested it, or because the motherfucking doctor recommended it. But, because I have some serious issues currently. I'm not happy, obviously. Most of the time, I'm stressed, and mildly depressed… blah, blah, blah. I write this with the intent of writing for myself. Almost everything I've ever written - whether I seriously thought it, or not - was conceived with others' reactions in mind. It is necessary if I want to 'embark on this experience' that I don't hold anything back. It is necessary for me to be… me. I probably shouldn't even be typing this shit on a computer, because I can already tell I'm being held back by the medium and my need to do things properly. Oh well… I need the typing practice. I want this process to rejuvenate what I know I have in me. I used to be so creative. I've written things that nearly got me hard before. And I used to actually journal (rather strictly)(still a blog). If anything, the 'me' that sits here now should be capable of much more. With all the shit that's happened to me since I was 18, how could I not be more profound? Not to say that I even am profound… merely that EVERYone should be, in their own way, more profound as they age. When you travel through life, you're bound to know failures, of many kinds and varieties and depths. You're also gonna know what succeeding feels like, and the empowerment of it. You're going to experience both happiness and love and heartache, and all that shit. You're going to understand that this life is a rather complicated and textured thing… too complicated and textured to ever fully grasp. Letting out one's ideas must surely free up one's mind for other mischief. I cannot see what I must do. I cannot rest. I cannot proclaim. I am no one. I live to live. I don't love it, but I live. That gets harder when you don't know how to fix it... when saying you want happiness won't bring it. Of course, my unhappiness is our unhappiness. This is why solutions don't obviously present themselves. Because, when one of us makes a relative breakthrough, it is squashed or dulled by the ties that bind. We carry our feelings of yesterday's pain. We hurt for the other, and the damage we've caused. We're sensitive to it all, and constantly prone to perpetuating this tragic nightmare, where two bright individuals are shining dimmer in the name of love.

(1/6/14)