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Smoke Dreams
Jul. 16th, 2002 10:48 pmMy friendly, violent comic book dreams have been replaced by cigarette dreams. This bothers me.
How many ways can I hide cigarettes from my parents? They don't know I smoke, but I feel such craving that I start sneaking around and hiding smokes, bumming smokes, smoking under the stadium seating in the park next to the ex-cheerleaders smoking crack and shooting heroin into their veins.
Did I mention we're going to a family reunion on August first? Yes, it's in Kansas. Yes, it's in the small town where I was tortured into a true sociopath for three years. Yes, we actually had to cough up the cash to fly there.
Yes, I'm a little anxious about it.
At first the Muse threatened to send me on my own for cost reasons, but we pricelined tickets and managed to book two seats. Phew! He is my buffer on social occasions. He is loud and funny and smart and gestures a lot with his hands. I sit back, laugh, and occasionally have a quiet conversation with somebody. If I was on my own, I'd be expected to interact socially. Eeeeeeeeek!
The Muse's backpack is filled with infinite packs of cigarettes which he hides from me. I take them out. There are always more. It is a cornucopia of nicotine. They are all Camels...Turkish Gold.
I need to start smoking better smokes.
Oh, well, tomorrow is when new comics get picked up. Hopefully there will be something graphic enough to stick in my porous subconscious.
Hmm. Perhaps I'll go sneak a smoke now.
How many ways can I hide cigarettes from my parents? They don't know I smoke, but I feel such craving that I start sneaking around and hiding smokes, bumming smokes, smoking under the stadium seating in the park next to the ex-cheerleaders smoking crack and shooting heroin into their veins.
Did I mention we're going to a family reunion on August first? Yes, it's in Kansas. Yes, it's in the small town where I was tortured into a true sociopath for three years. Yes, we actually had to cough up the cash to fly there.
Yes, I'm a little anxious about it.
At first the Muse threatened to send me on my own for cost reasons, but we pricelined tickets and managed to book two seats. Phew! He is my buffer on social occasions. He is loud and funny and smart and gestures a lot with his hands. I sit back, laugh, and occasionally have a quiet conversation with somebody. If I was on my own, I'd be expected to interact socially. Eeeeeeeeek!
The Muse's backpack is filled with infinite packs of cigarettes which he hides from me. I take them out. There are always more. It is a cornucopia of nicotine. They are all Camels...Turkish Gold.
I need to start smoking better smokes.
Oh, well, tomorrow is when new comics get picked up. Hopefully there will be something graphic enough to stick in my porous subconscious.
Hmm. Perhaps I'll go sneak a smoke now.
