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Wow, I just wrote yesterday. I think that I'm starting to like this. Well, when I can write and not really say anything, like I did yesterday. I mean about things that I feel. But I'll do that now. I feel great! I can't believe that I don't have this thing licked. I just keep feeling better and getting stronger every day! That chemotherapy knocked me on my ass, but I got up and I'm still fighting! The next part of my fight: I'm going to quit smoking. Yes, that's right. Those motherfuckers tried to kill me. They are my enemy. I should not smoke them, they have hurt me. I might not be able to win the fucking war, but I can win a battle now and then. This is one that I can win. Not because it will keep me from dying, but because I hate smoking. I didn't hate smoking when I felt rotten, I don't know why not. I just didn't think about it. I'm thinking about it now. I need a plan. I have cut down to where I only smoke about 30 cigarettes a day now. That's down from 60. That's pretty good for me. That's been for three days now. I don't feel any different that I did before. I did that by just asking myself every time I found a cigarette in my hand if I really wanted it. Most of the time I said no and put it back in the pack. I smoke thirty cigarettes a day without even knowing that I light them. I think that if I don't carry them with me it would work better. I could start wearing tshirts and sweats without pockets. I've hated shirts without pockets all of my life. Because I didn't have any place to put my pack of cigarettes. I never could do the James Dean thing and roll them up in my tshirt sleeve. I tried it once, ruined almost the whole pack. It was embarrassing, too. Anyway, I have hope. For a long time I haven't had any hope, and now I do have hope. I might live fucking forever! And if I do I don't want to die because of smoking, when I can quit. |