off the wagon

i'm smoking again. for those of you who read and believed my previous blog about quitting last saturday, my deepest apologies. i believed it too. i fear that cigarettes are what i always return to when everything else is falling apart. why it couldn't be a favorite sylvia plath poem or an old, dusty volume of some learned literature, i don't know. it's cigarettes.

along with a constant, nagging sadness which i'm able to push down most of the time, cigarettes are the only thing that have been with me since i was 17. they are my constant, these two. and if i'm not careful, either of them will kill me if given the chance.