Given up smoking
Well that’s it my last fag – hopefully.
No flags, no bunting, no ceremony, a jogger jogged past, a little girl teetered past on roller-skates holding onto her Mum’s hand.
I smoked two, the second I smoked till the end dropped out onto the decking.
I hate them, remember that I hate them, they make me… well I made a list, but simply put I hate them and I can feel them slowly killing me.
Tomorrow is the first day of the rest of my life, I hope that it’s a long one.
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