“Everything that needs to be said has already been said. But, since no one was listening, everything must be said again.” – Andre Gide
Rebellion at the fingertips...
Is every Mao-suited Chinese man a wannabe beatnik?
Even the anti-hero unknowingly conforms to a borrowed script
succoured by allure.
Exhaled ethereal silver circles of thought,
while plotting...
Ritual rhythms at the Café de Flore,
stillness and motion in retro contrast.
A cowboy in cool contemplation
draws deep,
leaving footprints in the dust.
Inspired by the aesthetic pleasures of smoking. I am reformed but felt curious about the charm.
Today’s Daily Stoic poem:
When you try to extend your reach outward, it’s much better and more appropriately directed inward.
Ryan Holiday
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful that I got my laptop working as I needed it at school yesterday after having many problems.
“a parent catching her child with cigarettes and forcing him to smoke the whole pack.”
Despite my father dying of lung cancer when I was a baby, my mother kept smoking for another 15 to 20 years after, then gave up in her early 60s and lived for another 20 years, though she suffered from COPD in the last 5 or so years which restricted her a lot.
I grew used to her smoking though I actually have no real memory of her puffing on a cigarette. Of course it was only natural her naughty son would steal an occasional cigarette, find a way to light it and go off down the end of the garden and practice smoking. I could be an adult too.
It was a great game. Waiting for my mother to leave her packet unattended, gradually sneaking a couple more each time. I was never caught but I’m guessing she knew. When I had upgraded to smoking in my bedroom I would get caught once or twice and my mum just tutted and asked where I got the cigarettes from to which I would guiltily lie. She couldn’t really say much without looking like a hyprocrite.
I also upgraded to stealing my grandfather’s beer which he kept stored in an outdoor shed. I loved the feeling alcohol gave me. I also remember being able to open my gullet so the liquid went straight down without gulping. A talented 13 year old I was becoming.
When my mum gave up smoking I had already started earning my own money and had developed my own addiction. I was proud of her giving up. I still hated myself too much to try. It wasn’t until much later when my son was born that I eventually stopped and that took a huge effort. At that point I was still secretly smoking at work and stuffing down packets of mints so my wife wouldn’t detect it. But eventually I stopped.
I still have dreams about that and sometimes I hit lucidity within the dream and wonder about the fact that I still smoke sometimes. It’s a weird feeling. I really hate the smell of burning cigarettes now and try to avoid going to bars and restaurants where smoking is permitted, something which is still common throughout Asia.
If the Chinese want to make a silent protest towards their government they should surely quit smoking and stop that tax money ending up in the pockets of their leaders! But cigarettes are like a handshake there, a different cultural definition.
Anyways, I was never forced to smoke a whole pack of cigarettes fortunately, though everyone knew the story of some kid that it had been forced upon. Did it ever happen or is it just urban legend?
Gratitude Journal
I am so happy and grateful that I could quickly get over an injustice towards me.
I am so happy and grateful that I don’t have to teach today because the students are doing exams.
To-do list
A long day stuck in the classroom with nothing to do but read, which was OK, just a little lacking in stimulation. My eyes hurt from looking at the screen so much.
I went to the psychiatrist after school and got new medication. I mentioned to him I had had a difficult emotional event on Monday but after a short period of time I have managed to overcome it. It felt good to tell him about this.
It later got me thinking about how much I trust this person to open up to because I feel a little judgemental towards him as he is from a different culture. Is that fair? Probably not. But it is important to talk to someone you feel comfortable with.
In the evening we went to Nong Nik’s graduation dinner. Amy drank quite a lot and showed a lot of love and affection to her mum. As we drove home though she was very animated about her frustrations with living in Thailand. It’s an ongoing source of concern and I’m not sure how to help. Moving back to Australia isn’t a very realistic option for us at the moment.
I am also not quite happy at the moment either. This could be connected with Kimi’s death which has made me re-evaluate things somewhat. Amy says I can quit school any time and she will go work in Australia. This is a possibility but I still would like to see if I can remain happy at a school and learn to deal with the stupid events better.
Thursday is another easy day of teaching and I will try to enjoy it as much as I can, stay in the present. Remember to breathe, remember you could die tomorrow. Let’s try not to make anyone cry today.
Hoo-ee! I woke up yesterday morning after 16-20 hours of restless sleep, through 42-degree heat, though a cool change was in the air, it hadn’t quite made it to the upstairs in our new house. I was totally betwattled.
Even the first coffee was no cure and I lurched around the supermarket uncertain why exactly I was there. I figured it out in the end and shopping done I contemplated going back to sleep again. The second coffee finally kicked me into gear but I had nothing to do except some reading and waiting for the man to come and give us internet again. I stayed awake with both fans blasting and kids shouting in their backyard, perhaps hunting the floppy-eared white rabbit I saw hopping down the street earlier.
In fact, by the time evening came round I was no longer sleepy, contemplating security in our new house and a message I got from my cousin Sharon, that my mother was sick again and back in the hospital. I got to sleep what felt like just a couple of minutes before my alarm went off and here I am back at work again, dopey-eyed with spinning stars.
My mother suffers from COPD, basically what emphysema develops into. She needs oxygen all the time now and gets chest infections very easily which knock her down. The infections are usually fixed with a course of antibiotics but consistently return when they are finished. It’s been like this for the last 12 months or so.
She finally had to leave her home and now lives in a nice care home. She was sad to leave and lose the independence she loved but she understands she couldn’t go on there anymore as she needs fairly constant monitoring. The sale of the house should cover her care home expenses for a few years.
Being a practical sort, my mother often told me not to return to the UK for her funeral as it is a waste of money. Amy and Sharon have both asked me if I want to go and visit but, practically, there isn’t much I can do for her, she will feel upset that I spent a lot of money to visit and I think she doesn’t want me to see her so invalid. She has always been so strong.
She has a Do Not Resuscitate order in place, saying she doesn’t want to hang around suffering and just being kept alive for the sake of it. She saw that happen with her sister. I hope she’s not suffering.
I did go and visit her about 18 months ago after she was taken to hospital for the first time. She was still able to do things to take care of herself at that time and it was really nice to be able to sit back and relax in my old family home, just chat and watch TV. I actually enjoyed being back in the UK, it was the tail end of summer so some days were comfortably warm but it was also nice to feel that clean English chill in the air some nights. These are memories I would like to keep of the last time to see my mother. Somewhat selfish I know.
My mother’s sickness it most likely smoking-related, though she quit about 20 years ago already, she had smoked for about 20 years before that. With cigarettes always around I soon started pinching some and the few times she caught me smoking she couldn’t really say anything to deter me. I finally stopped smoking myself when my son was born. My own father died of smoking-related lung cancer before I was two years old.
You know there’s six cigars
In a pack of Panama
But a pack of J.P.S.
Has twenty cigarettes
Record of the week: Wasted Youth – Wild and Wandering LP
3rd December 1984
In the process of giving up smoking.
4th December 1984
Tried to stop Dandy from smoking.
5th December 1984
Went to (Holtwood) Youth Club. Scott tried to start a fight with me. Late to college – early to leave. Cult 12″ in.
7th December 1984
Went to (Hinton Martell) Youth Club. Enjoying singing Cult LP. Won 70p playing pontoon.
8th December 1984
Went to town. Met Piwi. Went to his place. Borrowed PiL. Went to Square Records. Bought 3 LPs for £5.50
9th December 1984
Police brought a summons round for business at the Rec.
Record of the week: Cult Maniax – Morphine Mary
28th November 1984
Went to Youth Club (Holtwood).
30th November 1984
Went to Youth Club (Hinton Martell). Played table tennis all night.
1st December 1984
Went to town. Bought a bottle of wine (Houldey’s), Sugar Tornado (?) (mum), necklace (maybe for Dandy). Met Zara. Came back.
2nd December 1984
Decided to give up smoking.
Got to kick this awful trash
Got to stop this horrible mess
This habit is alive and kicking
Got to stop it from sticking
My head is spinning around and about
I just wanna stand up and shout
I should just reach and grab it
If I want to kick this habit
3rd Sept 2023 – Although not specific to any addiction or habit I’m pretty sure I was already wishing that I could stop smoking sometimes. It would be another ten years or more before I finally managed to quit.
Record of the week: Cult Maniax – Cold Love LP
12th-16th November 1984
Went to Torquay with Ian on a course. Had a good laugh in the mine and did a bit of damage. But was smoking 50 fags a day while I was there.
15th November 1984
Did talk on poetry – captured on video.
16th November 1984
Went to Youth Club.
