I need to stop falling in love over the internet. Today was the first day in a long time that I took a deep breath. This, after ten carcinogenic cathartic cigarettes. I hate myself for the lesson I had to learn. My head just buzzed and I could barely EDIT two pages, let alone write a single word. Shit happens. The only person I’m trying to hold to a higher standard than yesterday is myself. Everyone else is unfair. I apparently have unrealistic expectations of things. Myself included. The lesson, I will never smoke another cigarette. It is now in the same category as all the bad drugs. I thought it’d help, but nope. FLAT NO. I’m glad because I can enjoy certain songs, like San Francisco by Foxygen without romanticizing the idea that I’ll listen to it with a nicotine buzz. I can enjoy life without thinking it’d be better with a smoke. Everything is a little more fresh smelling and present. To take from my favorite straight-edge punk rocker, Henry Rollins,” Loneliness adds beauty to life. It puts a special burn on sunsets and makes night air smell better.” Now, as lonely as I am, that is not the problem I’m grappling with. I think Loneliness could be substituted by Sobriety. For me at least. I thought it was going to be a long trudge through hell, but frankly, I am doing things I would have never expected possible, failures and all. I could bitch all day about how awful it is to be born in this age when there are such extraordinary people alive doing such amazing things. The fact is, I can argue that I am educated enough to understand that people have always been incredible. I ain’t nothing new. Maybe I’m self-centered, but I’d happily trade lives with a lot of other people. Deep down, my thoughts, my second-rate life is better than it has ever been. I wouldn’t trade that. If I can be patient with myself, I think other people will be patient with me. I deserve it. Major other strides were made today. I am finally coming around to accept that I have been in love with an idea of someone rather than the real thing. It is more common than people might think. I think everybody is in love with (or hate) the idea of someone before they get to know them. Before (2 1/2 years ago, when I last tried to “move on”), my argument was that I should just value what I have instead of going looking for something I don’t. Ya know, the grass is always greener is idiotic. But now, I just want to let go of all that crap I’m holding myself accountable to. I can write about the idea of someone, without falling prey to being pathetic. I’ll never be in a healthy relationship if I’m constantly obsessing over the past. You think I’d learn from one of my top 5 favorite books of all time, The Great Gatsby. I think the moral of this little post is that I should be open to change and open my mind. However, any girl who hates on my boy Fitzgerald is gonna run into some serious problems. 😉 I love a lot of authors who’ve killed themselves. It is a fear of mine, for more than one reason, even now, but I don’t think planning out my suicide is going to solve any issues. I just think sometimes I think or write so fast I forget my argument, especially one I’ve been pontificating for so long. so long.