I dont want to save the world I just want to have a nice conversation with my friends

Quitting smoking after 5 years of not smoking

You should do something beautiful every day and if you choose to do something like creative writing, for whatever stupid reason you have for that, then what you are choosing is being miserable most of the time. If you choose to be a carpenter and have a real job it is very easy to make sure that you do one little thing every day that’s beautiful. Some little gesture, some little thing that works out alright, and is noble. If you choose to “write”, to be a “creative” who “creates” “art”, then most days you are going to produce nothing of value, and most days are going to suck.

Day 3 on no nicotine, quitting is easy. all that’s happened is I have lost my ability to sense and appreciate beauty in the world. On the plus side, turns out nicotine is a stimulant and I’ve cured my years of insomnia. This would all be perfectly easy and a cakewalk if I didn’t have several obligations and countless things I could and should be doing.

My feelings machine broke and I cannot assign value and make moral judgements. Everything is just grey matter. I’m eating the bugs.

Last night I dreamt about taking “tasteful nudes” style photographs of my erect penis, but clothed in underwear, as a kind of point about “proving” something about the size/potency of it to some imagined third party/observer, while having it simultaneously entirely “covered”, hidden away. Really hard cock in tight underwear. I feel like that’s a strong image for what I’m talking about here. Feeling neutered and hyper-potent all at once. I find myself continually indulging in fantasies of being somehow “caught unawareness” by another, who accidentally sees my erect, yet clothed, penis. I keep thinking about it. It seems relevant.

I think maybe I had too high blood pressure or something. Something weird is definitely going on with my blood. I cannot tell you how differently I sleep. It’s night and day. You know how, if you have to stretch and crack your neck or back or something, and you can crack it, but you can’t make it “just right”, just a moment of crack – relief – then a new not-optimal situation? When I crack my joints now, they get just-right.

Arms ache. Legs ache. Tired. I think it’s going to be good. Decided to quit on a spur of the moment impulse, then a couple hours passed, you pass through the first bad part, and after that it’s piss easy - “if I go back on it now, then going through that bad part was wasted”. It’s literally only going to get easier past that. Classic quitting things pro tip gamer guide: value your time invested in a project. Accept historicity. Be able to place your subjective experience into a general sense of history, a historisation. be, but in time. orient and contextualise yourself within a history.

I’m incredibly dissatisfied with everything I write. I recognize that some of that is chemical. But it’s impossible to tell whether it’s because I am unable to sense/recognize value, or because I am able to produce it. Until maybe in a couple of days.