So, 4 weeks ago, I had my last cigarette. This is something that most people would be proud of. I feel no pride in this whatsoever, because it was terribly easy. I'm not really addicted to nicotine. My deal with cigarettes is that it's how I dealt with a world that seemed to screw me over at just the right times. It was my means of shortening my life, a suicide that would take 40 years.
But I'm learning how to deal with life again. I'm figuring out that my life's been in neutral for so long that I've been rolling backwards. It's time to get things in gear again. I know this sounds incredibly stupid. I feel stupid for typing it, but here goes. Why am I so down on myself? Honestly, despite my tremendous string of failure, I'm a good guy. I'm pleasant, courteous, kind-hearted. I'm honest, eager, driven. I'm not ugly or freakish. I take good care of myself. I am, all in all, a pretty decent guy. Why should I worry so much about dating and women and all that jazz? Honestly, if no women in this city or this state can see their way to dating me, fuck them. If no women in this city or this state can see themselves dating some Asian guy, fuck them too.
Why should I get all worked up about the hangups of other people? Why should I torture myself over what is essentially someone else's problem? Heck, I'm not going to lose another second of sleep over this shit. You know, if no one can appreciate me, I shouldn't have to change myself or lower my standards. That's bullshit. And if it takes another 26 years of my life to find someone that appreciates me for who I am, then so be it.
It's amazing how much more empowered one can be when one concedes reproduction.
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