Day 2 on the patch.

Thisfuckingsucks.

I don't think it's working. I want a cigarette so fucking bad that when I walk down the street I want to rip one of out strangers hands.

I don't know what to do with my hands. I touch my mouth a lot. I chew on straws. I grind my teeth.

I took it off to sleep last night and I still had crazy dreams.

I took it off last night and waited 40 minutes and I had a cigarette. I did. Why lie to your own diary.

I had a fucking cigarette. And it sucked. Somehow, this fucking patch has ruined me. It was like smoking when you are sick. Totally unenjoyable.

This is worse than any drug. With the possible exception of heroin as those DT's make you physically sick.

I keep playing the Marvin Gaye-Tammy Terrell version of "Ain't No Mountain High Enough."

My brother told me to take the patch off. He thinks it's going to kill me. *the irony*

But I'll tell you this. This patch is going to destroy me faster than those damn cancer sticks.

God Damn! I want a smoke. I want a lazy cigarette. I want to slowly breathe it in and hold it lightly inside of me...and then to tilt my head upward...and slowly...oh-so-slowly...to allow the smoke to escape from between the oval my lips make as I blow it toward the sky.

I want to flick my cigarette against an ashtray. I want to hold it in my hand, between my first two fingers, with my thumb resting aginst the filter. I want to cup my face in my hand while holding my cigarette dangerously close to my highlighted blonde tresses. I want to rest the filter on my bottom lip as I think about what I am going to say.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

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