Day Two

Time won't take any prisoners,
But then how can I kill time?
Do I have to reach the other side
Or realize its all in my mind?



Today I was shaking like the hands of two rivals who put down their weapons, forming a peace treaty.  Though in my mind in the trenches of war, fighting the urge of surrendering to craving for nicotine.  I'd read that on the second and third day of quitting were the worst of the bends, due to the physical withdrawals.  Seemingly they come so suddenly.  Just give it some time, I thought, time in the thorns.

The roses in my mind, were deteriorating from my irritability.  I had barely slept the night before because I would randomly wake up feeling tireless.  When I finally had to get up I realized today was Thursday, but I could have easily laid in my bed till Sunday.  Hastily, I rolled out at about 6 a.m, with hopes of hacking out a paper, before class.

This is a picture of my brain

My brain continued to feel like a big bowl of mashed potatoes, and my paper was anything but gravy.  I should've named the paper hemorrhoid because I pushed that bloody mess of a mockery straight out of my ass.  Honestly, I feel sorry for my professor who has to grade it.  I tried to compose something decent, but my thoughts felt as natural as tinfoil in a microwave.  Anyways I got the paper done, and that's all that counts right?

The rest of my day at school consisted of me daydreaming about my girlfriend, while my professors talked about god knows what?  Don't get me wrong I love learning, but today I couldn't inhale the half of their shapeless thoughts.  I would have rather been picking up trash on the side of a highway. After my classes ended, I hadn't the slightest clue of what I was supposed to ingest.

Then it was time for me to go to work; one of means of employment, consists of teaching  kindergartners and first graders how to play chess.  I'm usually a really chill teacher, holding my composure, yet keeping the class in line.  Though today I was as in tune as a dusty upright that had been sitting in a garage for twenty some years.

My thoughts were more delayed than the sound in old Japanese movies.  Obviously, I couldn't express to my class how I was feeling, but somehow they instinctively knew.  They went bananas, and I couldn't peel my mind fast enough.  The class is only an hour, but it felt like two weeks.  It felt like a tornado had just touched down in my mind. 

The rest of my day has consisted of me acting like I was trying to study.  It's a bizarre feeling when you can watch your fingers twitch, and feel your mind pulsating like a sub-woofer.  I lost my mind concentrating on cigarettes, and everything else was merely a delusion.

Reaching end of the day, I commend myself for making it forty eight hours.  "One day at a time," is what my friends at gamblers anonymous told me.  I'm going to swallow my tongue, and call my girlfriend.  Much love.