Reports from the front line: 130 hours without a cigarette. The urges have decreased in volume - roughly 5-6 an hour - but their intensity have become greater. A random thought lodges in the brain and in less than 20 seconds becomes overwhelming: smoke! Smoke! SMOKE!
Tastebuds are beginning to recover - the inside of my mouth tastes like an ashtray, and my saliva at the height of an urge has a bitter, metallinc tang to it. My ability to smell is still hampered by low-level, but persistent, catarrh production. My hunger is (surprisingly) under control, especially now I've given up chewing gum which was making my jaws ache in any case.
Every change in my body fascinates me.
Looking back at the pile of shit masquerading as a poem which I drafted and posted here around 70 hours ago, I think there may be hope for my recovery - I'll have to try very hard to draft anything as tritely banal and pedestrian as that. But maybe as I grab more and more cigarette-free hours to my credit account I can reshape that dungfest into something slightly more interesting. We'll see.
"I was washing outside in the yard..." : poem by Osip Mandelstam (1921)
-
A poem by Osip Mandelstam, written in 1921. Russian original, recited (*ochin,
ochin* amateurishly) by me.
2 days ago
Howdy Rik,
ReplyDeleteJust popped in to let you know I added you to mt list at Poetsarus.com. and to thank you for adding my children's blog, LaureatesKids.com to your list.
"I can reshape that dungfest into something slightly more interesting."
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you can, Rik! Heh.
Best of luck with the cigarettes. My wife has tried to give up for years but she becomes so bad tempered that I usually end up begging her to start again.
Rik,
ReplyDeleteMy husband gave up smoking after over 25 years of the habit. And, amazingly enough, he says it was finally easy to do. There's hope! Good luck.