Monthly Archives: November 2021

Addiction and dependence

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I am going to stop vaping and smoking. As of tomorrow.

I started vaping (using juice with nicotine) to quit smoking. And it kind of worked — I usually just vape. But there are still plenty of periods when smoking cigarettes enters my life again. As it is doing currently. I am not dependent on them any more, because I get my steady stream of nicotine hits during the day from vaping. But because I am still craving nicotine, a cigarette now and then does not seem like a big thing. (It is, of course.)

It is simple: smoking is just terribly bad for my health. I know. And while vaping is arguably way better, to just keep the dependence on nicotine going does not seem such a smart move anymore. That addiction is going to fuck me up. So, I am done. As of the first of December 2021, I stop. No more dependencies.

Enjoyment

Enjoyment is not real to me, when dependency is involved. When feeling guilty and regret are sneaking in right after. That, to me, is not enjoyment. That is setting myself up for disappointment and failure. Feeling inadequate. And it is me, who is doing this to myself? How dumb is that? It eats away at my (life-) time, my money and my well-being.

Saying ‘I have an addictive personality’ kind of makes it sound like a badge of honor to me. That, or either like some lame excuse to keep on doing what I’m doing. (An addictive personality is not even a real thing.) But if at the same time I am jealous of people that seem (at least) not to have these problems and are feeling healthy and energetic, something is off. Not feeling in control makes me feel weak and dirty.

Mindset

And by publicly announcing it, I think I am giving myself an extra push. That said, the real push needs to come from within of course. And it does. I once stopped smoking for thirteen years, after numerous tries before that. So I know. From experience I know that the right mindset is the only thing that will really help me maintain my abstinence.

I’m just done feeling like crap. That’s it.

I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

Dishwasher

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You put in the dishes and then
You put in the soap thingy and the liquid and then
You close the door and then
You carefully select a suitable program (actually, always the same one) and then
You turn on the machine and then
It starts whirring and splashing and whirring and splashing and then
You turn around, contently and then
You see it, on the counter top: that one, buttery knife, always
that one, buttery knife

Visit

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I’m not big on anniversaries (also
cause I’m no good at
remembering dates, especially the bad ones), I just like
to keep you close, remember you on a
regular basis. You’re just dropping in,
coming to see how I’m doing. — Doing fine
now, dad. Thanks for checking.
See you soon

Of trees, the Moon and stars

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“Not just beautiful, though–the stars are like the trees in the forest, alive and breathing. And they’re watching me.”

― Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

Yeah, I know, another Murakami quote — live with it.

I have a thing with trees. And with the Moon and the stars. I guess it has something to do with me sometimes just not wanting to see what’s underneath me, holding me anchored; or not wanting see what’s around me, like seeing reflections and truths, you know? No, this is about me looking up, looking into what could be, maybe.

With trees, you can’t see what’s underground, and you can only guess at what they are reaching for, for evermore growing and branching out. The great ones have already been here since centuries. And although they have this strength and wisdom, it is a scary thought that if I wanted to, I can just put an ax to it and stop the time. And kill history and future in one go.

And then it’s about me looking up into the night. Looking up at the only things that emanate intense energy, shiver with silver life, out there, far away in the vast darkness.

Yes, I know there are lamps everywhere that pollute and fuck up up the night sky, but stay with me here. Imagine that you’re out in the woods. Nothing there but the wet leaves on the ground, the mist clinging onto the birch tree trunks, and the thick, damp dark, hiding behind. — Until you look up to the sky, shimmering with a million (and more, always more…) bright lights, piercing through those naked, barren branches.

The biggest one out there, on some nights, is of course the Moon. And the Moon is something different. Different from those tiny, shiny needle holes, punched into that pitch dark blanket. No, the moon I can almost see. There’s some detail, some character there. Just enough to feel its nearness. But not enough to throw a rope around it and to pull it in.

For me the Moon and stars stand for the quiet, for relaxing, for letting go of the stress of the sunlight. Leaving behind that gigantic brightness, setting everything on fire from morning till night.

https://twansphotos.tumblr.com/post/667305138702123008/in-a-forest

Looking up — it is a getaway. It is going far away while staying put. It is relaxing up there, when down here everything is hectic. But up there is where the dreams and the stories are.

Let’s see what I can come up with next.

There’s gonna have to be some danger

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If the winds don’t catch you, I will, I will

What do I do, when I am dependent on someone else and I have to just wait and see in which direction this ginormous ball of crap is rolling? Well, I try and not curl up myself, I straighten my back, I hold my head up high and I live my life like I am the one that will have to die when my time comes.

Even when it seems the world is trying to quarter me, pulling my limbs into the four cardinal directions, I show it that it can’t hurt me, that it can’t even touch me. That I am, after all the shit — clinging to blades for just a moment and then with a nauseating ‘swoosh’ swinging in God knows what direction — still me, and that nothing or nobody can change that, but myself.

And if I choose to do so, if I choose to change, and they don’t like who I’ve become? Ha! Tough luck, the only one I have to report to (on occasion) is me and I like myself, so I have that going for me.

https://twansphotos.tumblr.com/post/667013894940786688/late-bloomer

Fact is, I am changing. As time goes by, as moments pass, as I encounter and process, as I read and think and write, I change. Because I want to. It is something that started some years ago. (Yes, I am a late bloomer, winters don’t faze me.) The status quo was scaring me. Not moving means going nowhere. And I had travel plans.

With every molecule mutating, with every particle decaying and new ones being slung into this weird electric state simulating life, I look different from the moment before. In my experience a lot of people look upon that with eyes that seem to spark with fuses short circuiting behind their thick skulls. Usually people that appear close by in the rear view mirror, but are actually much farther away. Too bad. My life, my choice, my clutch, my stick shift, my gas pedal. Eat my dust.

So, nothing I can do at the moment. Somebody else is dealing the cards. It is not my job right now. And all the mess that maybe comes from the hand I will be dealt, that is what I am left with at that moment. That is my new jumping-off point. And jump off I will. It will be a giant leap forward, going straight into a free-fall. And the farther I jump, the bigger the chance I’ll land at some place interesting. A place I never thought I’d end up at. A beautiful new world.

Or I’ll smash into the earth.

Sometimes after I write something and reread it, another meaning suddenly hits me. I love it when that happens.