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Feel my rage.

Hello, dear reader. You smell nice today. I don't. Or rather, I don't smell of cigarette smoke. You might consider this to be a good thing. I consider this to be a reason to be angry. Angry because I have not had a cigarette in a little over 14 hours.

Once upon a time, or more accurately, three years ago, before I started smoking, I would have said that I would never start smoking, that it was disgusting, and if I did start smoking, I'd be able to quit. That I had will power.

I was wrong. I do not have will power. I do however have an anger comparable to Margerat Thatcher with PMS.

Just today, I got angry because a man was being interviewed on the news, and the only way to describe it was a hatchet job. I don't even know what the subject of the interview was. I have no doubt that I would have disagreed with the man being interviewed though.

I have also been angered by a man with more tattoos than me (what right does he have to be able to afford more time at a tattoo parlour than me?) and by a train not stopping with it's doors directly in front of me.

So. Quitting smoking, it turns out, is hard.

Please, the next time you hear someone complaining how hard quitting is, or see them having a smoke that they shouldn't be having, please, for me, go kill yourself. We deserve your support, not your derision.

And yes, as soon as I'm off this train, I'm going to the store to buy a pack of smokes.

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