Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Nicotine Addicted Souffle

So I had this dream last night, yes, I know, it can only get better, but anyway, I smoked an entire packet of cigarettes sitting at a low wooden coffee table talking to some Kerouacian beardy man, it was amazing, I distinctly remember grabbing handfuls of extinguished butts out of the overflowing turquoise ashtray and crushing them in my hands – how grotesque in reality, but to a heavy smoker on her third quitting month it was absolute bliss.

Quitting smoking is like waiting in a hospital to find out of somebody survived an operation, everything becomes drab and institutional, the walls of every room become smokers yellow, clocks become slow lumbering beasts, booming out every second of your looming failure. People talk too loudly, and too much, and too little, and too quietly, and use the wrong words, and the right ones, complexity disappears entirely, absolutely everything is simple, everything is absolute – every person barring yourself is thoroughly and horribly twisted and wrong.

My skin broke out, I got the shakes for weeks on end and began to have these irrational, but thoroughly enjoyable, fantasies about killing people in obscure ways, the guy behind the counter at the bookstore, the one who had never heard of Nabokov, he would be dismembered slowly by crowds of little girls reading excerpts from Pale Fire…The apelike gentleman who cut me off in traffic was to be trampled by marauding Romans, ripped out of the history book by the magical accident which was also responsible for the decapitation of the old lady who bumped into me with her shopping trolley. Bodies were strewn through the streets of Johannesburg, the balance of nature was all wrong and I was stuck in the waiting room two doors down from all that should be, but wasn’t.

Then suddenly it was over, I am not even sure when, but the sky cleared, my number was called, and eight kilos heavier, with the skin of a thirteen year old boy… I emerged from the cocoon of my self induced mania and into a brighter day, a lighter existence, a land of rainbows, flowers and feminine body shaping underwear commercials, I am reborn, with a body destined for trailer parks and tent dresses I rise up to face the world, I am, the non smoker….

1 comment:

kittiegurl said...

and yet them there people lived, and so did you, to see another day! Well done =)