Veril
Frame Savant
Link to original post: [drupal=1128]Train ride home[/drupal]
I am traveling home, back from Boston, where I have been visiting my Uncle, to NY. Its a long ride.
Cigarettes... I had none yesterday. They were on my mind constantly. "Jonesing" is the term. Can't stop wanting it. Sipping this rum and coke isn't making me want it any less but loud children seem less annoying. My doctor warns me that I can't drink. My brain will pop, my heart will rip itself out of my chest and I will burst into flames. In other words, contraindications with my medicines.
I'm not on fire. This is good.
I want a cigarette. 2 more hours (or is it 3?) and I will walk, purposeful, through the tourists, from Penn Station to Grand Central. My sad dry acetocholine receptors will light up. Nicotinergic, a whole class of receptor just for this specific agonist.
I hate kids.
My Uncle had a heart attack. He considers it a blessing. Turns out he has cancer. A malignant tumor hiding on/in/around a kidney. Growing for years, completely unnoticed and only discovered after surgery for his heart. We're close.
3-5%. Seems small enough. Its the chance that he'll die.
About an hour more.
I saw Beckett's "Endgame" yesterday. Its not every play that leaves you feeling hollow afterwards. I can't get it out of my head. That play...
It reminded me of the time right before I was hospitalized. Not knowing whether I was alive or dead, awake or asleep, waiting to find out, waiting for an end. When I got in the hospital, that's when I really started smoking.
Well, that sure wasn't about Jigglypuff
I am traveling home, back from Boston, where I have been visiting my Uncle, to NY. Its a long ride.
Cigarettes... I had none yesterday. They were on my mind constantly. "Jonesing" is the term. Can't stop wanting it. Sipping this rum and coke isn't making me want it any less but loud children seem less annoying. My doctor warns me that I can't drink. My brain will pop, my heart will rip itself out of my chest and I will burst into flames. In other words, contraindications with my medicines.
I'm not on fire. This is good.
I want a cigarette. 2 more hours (or is it 3?) and I will walk, purposeful, through the tourists, from Penn Station to Grand Central. My sad dry acetocholine receptors will light up. Nicotinergic, a whole class of receptor just for this specific agonist.
I hate kids.
My Uncle had a heart attack. He considers it a blessing. Turns out he has cancer. A malignant tumor hiding on/in/around a kidney. Growing for years, completely unnoticed and only discovered after surgery for his heart. We're close.
3-5%. Seems small enough. Its the chance that he'll die.
About an hour more.
I saw Beckett's "Endgame" yesterday. Its not every play that leaves you feeling hollow afterwards. I can't get it out of my head. That play...
It reminded me of the time right before I was hospitalized. Not knowing whether I was alive or dead, awake or asleep, waiting to find out, waiting for an end. When I got in the hospital, that's when I really started smoking.
Well, that sure wasn't about Jigglypuff
