Baby with a Cross to bear.

I told Kelley I was gonna quit. I want to. It doesn't circulate my blood right.

But at 145 this morning, not 4 hours after telling her I was done for good, I was sitting there with a Marlboro 27 burning into Che's face (a bad ass ash tray my sister got in Spain. I'm now using it to its orginal intent...). I hate it. But I have no accountability. No oneI see every day to smell me and say "You fucking dolt."

With each puff, I'm killing myself. With each puff, I'm degrading myself, changing my neurochemistry, making it harder for myself to quit when I inevitably have to in a few years so I can a good roll model.

I had the epiphany today, I'm going to be a youth pastor. And youth pastor don't kill themselves with Cancer Sticks. Shit shit shit. Youth pastors also don't curse.

Lauren tells me that tobacco is a terrible industry, that prides itself on killing people. But, if I'm to believe as Jasmine believes, that animals are equal with humans, then the tobacco industry is no worse than the Meat industry. And I've conceded to them my whole life. The vegetable industry is probably just as bad. And so is McDonald's. Eat that shit every day and it will kill you.

So you pick your battles. I'm a fucking idiot. This year has been a wash.

I started drinking January 1st, had my first drink on new year's eve. I had my first cigarette while drunk about four or five months ago. You see how this is all steamrolling?

But I've been stressed out over a girl. And the last time I was this in love and this scared of dying alone and this scared of never being with her, I stopped eating, dropped 50 pounds or so, and didn't get over it for two years. Which would I prefer? I ain't blamin' either of these girls for neither of my stupid-fucking-decisions.

(Both of you, and I think you both know who you are, know that I do not ever ever ever blame you for anything I ever did. They're my actions. I'm the Cunt.)

So who am I blaming if not them? Myself. I blame myself for taking a two-week high-school relationship too hard, I blame myself for taking on loving a girl who I had no hope with from the start. I blame myself.

And that makes me want to smoke even more. It makes me want to smoke two packs a day and never ever eat again. I hate myself and my weakness. I hate the fact that I am a weak-willed cunt who never has seen the light of day. I blame myself for hating myself. I hate how cyclical life is, manifesting itself again and again, I'm afraid I will be reborn into this life again, I am afraid that I won't remember any of my stupid fucking decisions in this life.

I want God back. I want him to come back. I've done all I can and he's nowhere near me anymore. I need God Back. DO YOU HEAR ME GOD!? This isn't the end. It gets worse.

I need to go to bed. I need God to find me. I'll keep plowing, but he will turn the soil. This is a drought, but I have faith that the RAIN will come. And everything will be okay.