22

22 in an hour, wanted to write something for the occasion, to try to make it an occasion at least. Something with meaning, something fulfilling, something to make the last year count for something. It’s late and I’m tired from the melatonin pills kicking in, only thing that helps me be a functioning individual, linking me to the tick of a clock. Can’t do sleepless nights anymore - birds chirping and there’s the cozy blue light squeezing through inbetween the curtains, flaring up the window dust, and I think “fuck it” and drag myself out to make some instant coffee and smoke a cigarette because I got my leg stuck in the quicksand of thinking it was cool and artsy to do both at the same time. Don’t smoke, it blows.

I got sick about a week ago and I didn’t smoke for three days. Tried it again after I got better and thought “Jesus, this tastes like shit” but I bought the pack already so my brain told me it’ll be the last last one. Then it said “let’s just chill out a bit, 4 or 5 a day” and I said yes and now it’s back to the old half a pack a day occupying this vanta-black hole in my budget that I don’t ever want to look at cause I know I won’t care at all. I don't even know why I picked it up again.

I haven’t had alcohol for the past two months at least. Maybe longer. I don't really remember. That's the weird, annoying thing I've noticed when you're trying to make a change. As long as you're not thinking you're changing you're set. Just don't think about it. I don't know why. Guessing it's cause your building it up in your head that it's this big huge mountain you have to hike and now there's a fat obelisk casting a shadow all over your brain wrinkles and you think "well I'll never see the light" when it's some dumb-ass mirage your brain made up because of endorphins and short-term gratification. I don't even know why I'm writing this anymore.

It's the melatonin.