Every drag of the cigarette adds to my rot. Dying cells, dying lungs. Am I taking off the years of my life in which I would be sitting in a nursing home though? Am I avoiding shitting in my own pants while a stressed out CNA draws lots to be the one to avoid changing me? Or am I making my younger years worse? Can't hike so far, run so fast,
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Aw.
Friday's my quit date.
This makes me re-contemplate the contemplation.
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Lol.
I'm debating it.
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*drags deeply*
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