It’s smokey because I made a choice. The stench wafts through the apartment. The taste is in my mouth - of choice. I don’t think about tomorrow, waking up with a dried-out nose, cursing the decision I made hours ago. I just do these things because it feels good, not because they’re actually beneficial. I’m not going to beat myself up over it though. Not this time. I can’t go back and do things differently, but I can take a different route the next time.
It all just reeks of wretched unhealthiness. I’ll awaken with that faint taste in my mouth. It’s one I remember quite well. Maybe I’ll decide I’m done for a while and decide that it doesn’t support who I really am. It’s all certainly nothing I have given much thought to recently. It feels like a good time to get a little more conscious about me. It’s never too late for any of this, which makes putting it off so very attractive. I’ll see how I feel in the morning. It’s never too late.
