The Flight of the Rocketman

Im taking chances,
I wear my heart on my sleeve.
I wonder slide slide, under the big sky,
whos gonna' take care of me.
-- Taking Chances, Abra Moore

Quick blog. I don't think there's ever been a lower point in my life than 20 minutes ago when I was scouring over other people's desks in the office looking for a lighter. Jesus! There's nothing more pathetic than a smoker looking for a way to get his fix...

Ugh! This is so hopeless. I just want to stick my thumb in a 220 voltage socket and feel the electricity go through me and hopefully change the current that runs through my bloodstream. My synapses are way delayed and I'm receiving information at a much slower rate before and I pride myself for being quick on my feet.

I don't need a break. It is the last thing I need. The harder it will be to return to my groove. The vinyl is turning on the turn table and the needle is right on the surface. I still don't hear anything. I need to raise the volume.

I need to raise the volume.

I really, really need to raise the volume. Because I feel like I'm drowning in all the background noise and I've forgotten how to swim.

I don't need another cigarette. The aggravation of having to go outside and ask for a light from the guards is just too much. I can't stand the way they look at me. They make me feel like a junkie.

This is the last time I'm bringing one lighter to where ever I'm going. And the last time I'm lending out a lighter to a fellow cig-junkie.

There's no point in being self-indulgent when you can't enjoy the little things that are bad for you.