Going to the baseball game

My good friend Dan invited me to White Sox park yesterday for the game against the Twins. We sat in two of the best seats in the park. The weather required a jacket, but we sat in the sun and were very comfortable. The White Sox played a good game and won. Dan knows a lot about baseball, but he is one of the experts on White Sox baseball, so it is always a great time going to the game with him.

V and I are going to the Cubs game this afternoon. Life does not get any better.

Manipulation

V is bringing a friend to the bar tonight to buy him a drink. He is not supposed to know the true nature of the relationship between V and me for reasons I do not care to get into right now. I do not care who of V’s friends know about us. However, when I thought about that this morning it left me wondering, for the first time, if my attitude was a little perverse. V and I, out of necessity, have to be careful in certain social situations, but shouldn’t I feel some remorse about it?

All the regulars at the bar know about me and V. I wonder if it is possible for me to camouflage my feelings for her when she walks in the room. I suppose it does not matter as long as she can camouflage hers.

At the end of the day, her friend should be the only one in the bar who does not know about me and V. I hope V and I can manipulate that kind of social situation. I’ll let the readers of State Street know tomorrow how it went.

etc.

I’m doing laundry, etc. Etc. has become important to me lately, but I do not know why. I watch a warm spring shower fall. I want a cigarette because an anxiety I cannot discern agitates me. I take a pill. The pill makes me high. Yesterday, the pill mellowed me. Not today. I am flying. No, I am flying very fast. An endless etc. looms before me.

Agendas

I lost my appointment/agenda book the other week. So V and I went to the store and bought agenda books on Saturday. Later that afternoon, we sat together and filled in those events from earlier in the year we could recollect along with future events. Damn, I had fun doing that with her.

Quitting

I will admit it. My body chemistry and mental faculties are disarrayed more than usual since I quit smoking, something which is pretty bad given my normal state of disarray. I understand that it will take several months before the rig I call myself returns to something resembling normal.

I am returning to the pills for a few more days. They keep my mood level. I need to feel better than I do now.

The year in review

I just finished reading Pamuk’s My Name Is Red. Now, I have started Vollmann’s Europe Central. I’m sticking to reading plan “A”: my primary reading will be novels this year. At the end of the year, I will recall what I did this year. I slowly read a bunch of novels. I fell hopelessly in love with V.

Sleepless

In the past, I have negotiated these nights when I cannot sleep with cigarettes. Tonight, thoughts of loss and loneliness replace the cigarettes. A certain nightmare recurs whether I am asleep or awake.

The eastern sky begins to grow light. Sunlight will soon illuminate the insignificant speck in the universe that is me.

Nothing

I have just woken up in the middle of the night. V is not with me. I think she said earlier this evening that when I wake up in the middle of the night tomorrow, she will not be with me either.

Life goes on–desperately lonely, silent, and empty. I am nothing.

Thank you

I am approaching the one week mark since I last smoked a cigarette. Yet as I write this, I find myself still wanting to smoke a cigarette. It is not the physical nicotine withdrawal that causes this since that phase is over with. My blood system eliminated all the nicotine within my body within 72 hours. The brain takes its own sweet time washing cigarettes from its memory.

I have been thinking about why and how I quit smoking. If I did not love V, I would never have attempted to quit the way I did last week. It was more of a wild whim than anything thought through, such as gradually cutting down so the withdrawal would not be as severe as it has been. I am convinced I could not have kept with it during the worst part if V had not been with me when I woke the past five mornings. I also dreaded meeting her in the evenings and having to tell her that I had smoked during the day. Yes, I could not have made it this far without V; in fact, I would not have tried.

In the short amount of time I have known V, she has given me much that adds new meaning to my life. I hope she knows that my quitting smoking this past week is a gift I give to her as much as I give to myself. It has been a way for me to say thank you to her. These days, I would give anything for her love.

Quitting smoking VIII

I think I made it. I don’t smoke anymore.

Quitting smoking VII

My nicotine craving is taking a rest. It is like a fever breaking when you have a cold. I have a minimum of my mental faculties back. That’s a relief.

I am used to smoking when I write these posts. Not having a pack of cigarettes or an ashtray by the computer seems very odd.

I wish I could kiss V right now. Her kisses are the best I have ever had, and I do mean ever.

She makes me happy

I woke before the alarm went off this morning. V was close beside me. The sun coming through the window illuminated her face in a way I wanted to capture in my memory. I gazed at her for a long time even though it was still early.

So, as midday approaches, my memory serves me well. I can still see her face as she slept. I recall the warmth of her body as she lay next to me. I still have the same feeling about her I had when I woke this morning: damn, I love this woman. She makes me so happy.

Quitting smoking VI

State Street has hit a new low with this quitting smoking boring ass shit. However, the nicotine cravings come in short bursts lasting several minutes. The cravings block all thought except the desire for cigarettes. Of course, nicotine is one of the most addictive substances ever known. Nicotine controls the mind. Nicotine makes slaves of people. I should never have become a slave to nicotine in the first place.

I hate cigarettes. Fuck you, cigarettes. Leave me the fuck alone, cigarettes. I never want to see you again, fucking cigarettes. That gives you an idea of the mood I am in right now.

I have no idea why the cravings won’t leave me alone for just a little bit today. I just totally fucking hate the way I feel right now. Quitting smoking really hurts. I ain’t kidding either. Yes, this is another day when State Street is even more boring than usual, but dammit we are quitting smoking.

Quitting smoking V

Coffee, but no cigarettes this morning. I cannot focus my thoughts for long on anything other than cigarettes. This will be a very long and unpleasant day.

Qitting smoking IV

Did I tell you already? This morning, I found the prescription pills I used the last time I quit smoking. It says, “don’t take these when you are drinking,” on the bottle. Whoever came up with that notion is wrong. You don’t care about anything when you are drinking and taking these pills to excess. Not even smoking.

Now, I remember how I quit smoking the last time.

Quitting smoking III

Afternoon. I took a nonsmoking pill just before lunch. It keeps my mood elevated, but I can already feel my blood stream eliminating the nicotine from my system, which means I want a fucking cigarette so badly I would almost sell my soul to have one, that is if I had a soul. All I am is a blob of addicted flesh.

I hope you all are having a much better day than me.

Quitting Smoking II

As I sit here this morning drinking my coffee without a cigarette in hand, I ask myself, what was I thinking? What makes me think I can quit smoking? All I can think about is smoking and the ordeal has barely begun.

Too bad it is too late to go back. Everybody would call me chicken shit if they found out I backslid.

Quitting smoking I

I decided to quit smoking beginning tomorrow. Next weekend is a special weekend for me. I don’t want to be going through nicotine withdrawal during it, so there is no point in delaying it.

I can almost feel the pain from nicotine withdrawal tomorrow, pain coming over me in nauseating waves where I can think of nothing but cigarettes, where I lose all affection for life except for nicotine, and where I must find the most solitary and quiet place possible. However, delaying the starting date seems like delaying the torturer when you know you will survive the torture and be better for it when it is over. Let the games begin.

If State Street turns into a bunch of cuss words for the next three days, you know why.

Monday mornings, baseball, cigarettes, and love

Monday morning. V has left for work. These first few hours of Monday mornings without V always seem the most lonely and vacant of the week, especially after I have spent a wonderful weekend with her.

The early morning sunshine has turned to dark clouds and a cold rain. I have a ticket to the White Sox baseball game this afternoon. I wish they would postpone it before I go to the baseball park, for the weather will be cold and rainy all day.

I promised V I would quit smoking by midnight on Wednesday. If I do not, I must cut my hair short. I love my long hair, so I will quit smoking. I have been thinking a lot about quitting this year anyway. The problem is the first 72 hours without cigarettes. Every nerve in my body screams for a cigarette. I can feel my blood stream eliminate the nicotine from my body. My blood sugar level goes through radical gyrations. I feel elated at one moment, then I crash into depression the next. After the physical withdrawal period is over a sense of joy sets in where I tell myself, I did it! Then I feel depressed as if I have lost the love of my life. When the first week without cigarettes is over, the quality of my life changes spectacularly for the better. I am no longer a slave to one of natures most insidious drugs. I am free in a way hard to explain.

As I mentioned previously, I had this feeling my life had changed in some subtle way I could not describe. The nature of the change came to me this morning after V left. My personal identity has changed. I am the man who has V in his life. I think about things differently than I did before. I feel differently each minute of the day because of her. My life is divided into two major parts: the time with V and the time without her.

At any rate, I am rested this morning. That is not a bad way for me to start my week. But still, I miss her.

Simulation

Playing the chess program cranked up to the highest level, I hold my own through the opening and into middle game. Yet, as it is with some of my human opponents, I get this eerie feeling the program has turned the game in its favor although I see equality on the board.

I wonder when intuition is based on some analytic process hidden from consciousness. No matter what our decision processes are, our emotions eventually force the process to halt. If the emotions did not do that, we would be nothing but prey trying to decide if the lion stalking us was truly out to eat us.

Meanwhile, the chess program halts its algorithmic calculations and makes its next move. The computer has to simulate emotions even if it does not have them. Moves must be made.

Lunch

V, I will see you at the bar around noon for lunch.

Vanity?

Images come as fast as I can process them today. I feel as though I am peering into the future. The future consists of more than images; it has an hidden form I have yet to fathom. The words still don’t come that would express any of those images, but it feels differently than yesterday when they did not arrive.

Do I wait in vain, or is it merely vanity to think words will come when called?

Luminous

I know talking or writing about the weather is boring, and sometimes, the sign that one has nothing of import to say. Yet we are enjoying our first week of spring weather in Chicago. It feels good.

My days are colored by the amount of sunlight and warmth. These days of light and warmth are my favorite time of year. I would have enjoyed the baseball game with V the other night even if the weather had been brutal as it can be at this time of year. However, sitting through a night game in shirt sleeves and feeling comfortable throughout made the experience all the more enjoyable. I’ll never forget when she rested her head upon my shoulder a couple of times during the game. Life is an accumulation of small kindnesses and generosities if it is to be a good life.

Of course, being with V makes every experience pleasant. I find it difficult to take my mind from her on this day of light and warmth. Her beauty and this wonderful weather mesh perfectly.

Missing

Words don’t come some days, or at least any I can match with the images that flit through my mind, images not standing still long enough to be photographed. The day will come soon enough when it does not happen at all, or if words still come, I won’t care.

I feel older than dirt today. Of course, I am old. I merely feel it today. The world of impossibility crowds out the world of possibility. Words simply won’t come to me no matter how I hard I try.

About the only thing to do is read some good words others have written. If reading won’t satisfy, do the mundane and ordinary just to numb the sting of missing the words that won’t come regardless of how much they are bidden.

Play ball

It was a honey of a night for a ballgame. The Cubs beat the Mets 7 to 1. V went with me. And as I watched the game I never was more in love with a woman than her.