Aftermath – The Wrath Of Leaves
Woo. What a weekend! Truth be told that it was actually quite a regular weekend – hanging out with mates over beer, eating good food, playing pool and just generally having fun. It shouldn’t be that momentous. Nothing exciting happened. No one did anything extraordinary. We were not celebrating a special occasion. It was just a run-of-the-mill, plain-jane, boring-brian, ordinary weekend.
Except for the fact that I finally broke the fasting.
Hey, it wasn’t any ordinary fasting – it was a vice fasting! For over 5 years, I have been clean of any tobacco substance and for the first time in over 5 years, I spent the entire weekend inhaling cigarettes. YAAY! Two WHOLE evenings sucking on cancer sticks. YAAY! Oh sure, I’m torn up about it. So much effort over such a long period of time. To throw it all away on one ordinary weekend – kinda anti-climactic ain’t it?
I think not. I’m going to use the excuse that it’s been a long week out of a long month. Bleh to you too. The joys of finally being able to indulge a craving that has been slowly tormenting me to the brink of insanity – freedom! Ah the clogging feeling of ash and tar smogging up your lungs, the flavoursome teeth staining smoke filling your mouth and rush of the nicotine slowing your brain cells down… What a feeling!
Sure, I had a drink too… I didn’t get my Bombay Sapphire but I did get half a pint of Heineken and half a pint of Hoegaarden. Not much by certain standards but it was just as a space filler between my cigarettes. Nothing to shout about.
Problem with indulging your vices is the wrath of leaves the next day… I woke up with that distinct feeling that a small rodent had shuffled off its mortal coil inside my mouth. Either that or a very talented cat had deposited about half a box of soiled kitty litter in there. Whatever it was, the taste, smell and feeling – NOT something I’d wish upon anyone but my worst enemy.
I swear – your mouth is desert dry with that fuzzy, mouldy coating on your tongue and the roof of your mouth; an oily, smoky film on your teeth; gritty, sand-like grains down your throat when you try to swallow; dizzy, swimming feeling when you open your eyes; slower, spastic reflexes when you topple out of bed; breath that can rival a sewage dumpsite; and the nail in the coffin – the MASSIVE urge to light another one.
Sigh. Back to staying quit. Which really sucks. But was the transgression worth it? Two words.
FUCK YEAH
