“Good bye, my twisted friend” I said. “Farewell and don’t ever come back” my mind echoed. “Good riddance” the afterthought sounds for hours as a smile forms and stays for the remainder of the day. “That wasn’t so hard” I say to myself and I’m all in agreement, my last puff tasted as terrible as my first. I’m happy and 5 days later I’m still happy.
The smile on my face slowly fades with the breaking of day 6. I laugh it off “I don’t need to smoke anymore” I tell myself with a voice that rings a bit hollow, not as profound as the time it started voicing it’s ever increasing concern. Like a slow creeping and nagging wild bottom growing infestation, something creeps into my thoughts at random times and lingers constantly, reminding of the good, the sinister black shadows stop fading as this lingering shadow caster intercepts my once strong determination. A sound and prudent voice intercepted by the hollow reception of a confused mind gives birth to an old, familiar yet new and dark tone of a voice that suggests the opposite. A bomb drops in my mind, resounding all the logic and certainty that I have clung to for a week and speaks plainly saying “a smoke would be nice right now”.
A thousand times “No, I’m done with this twisted friend” only resounds in in an empty corner of my mind where there used to be certainty. It no longer lingers, it’s ever present in a bright yet empty array of electric shadows using every colour. Thoughts multiply and the hunger bites like a sick and threatened dog and my defence crumbles on the onslaught of the plain and dark thought “you need another cigarette”.
Defences up, “Let us stand strong” I scream the silent inward scream of a battle cry which is met by a sinister laughter. A passive and powerful force with no personality, no feelings, no desire except one, just a little fresh supply of tobacco. I scream, it listens then smiles and ignores me, then carries on wanting its desire, its passive power all it needs.
A hint of hopelessness takes over and the idea becomes pregnant and soon gives birth to a plan. “No, I have to starve it” I say, and its response… “I can survive a 100 days, can you?” One weak moment and the twisted plan suddenly looks plausible, fighting and losing, then walking the walk of shame to supply this monster with exactly what it wants.
I fold, I relapse… close to tears. The loudness of my own voice is back, shouting a once again profound statement… “Hello Darkness, my old friend” the hunger stills and I feel myself again. So good and bad all at once. Monster satisfied, I look upon the passive beast and confess my overconfidence I once had. I look down at the monster in disgust and say confidently “This is not over, I will live to fight another day, I will defeat you, you may have won this battle, but you haven’t won the war!” I tell myself, with my voice now loud and confident I declare in battle cry the following words shall reign soon “Goodbye Darkness, my sinister, dark, destructive and deceptive friend”. My smile returns slightly but is overcast by a strong sense of disappointment at my failure.
