Wednesday, July 13, 2005

The First Drag

It's now a recurring dream: I dream of being given a cigarette or suddenly finding a long thin white stick between my forefinger and my middle finger and I lift my hand to my face and suck deeply.

The instant relief gratifies like nothing else in the world. My being suddenly feels like it's sitting well within the confines of my skin; my shoulders slump as if freed from puppet strings.

Even as I'm revelling in the delight of the first drag, my soul is screaming to my dream self "It's a trick! Stop! Don't you know what you're doing to me?"

I wake up, upset and scared, desperately hoping I didn't have that first drag, yet desperately wishing I did. Anger soon floods my senses. Anger that I did this to myself, anger that I can't enjoy the first drag, anger that the first drag is pretty much a false promise and I know this.

The first drag does deliver; the delivery however, lasts at most a minute. Withdrawals takes weeks and that's what I'm angry about, that I will continue to dream of the first drag and never again will it occur in real life.



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