i quit smoking the day i found out mom was sick again. it was the best thing i ever did. i couldn't have done it, though, without a reason. because i didn't really even consider myself a smoker to that point. it wasn't a problem...that is, until i decided to quit. and then i suddenly realized how many situations call for a cigarette. .....and this thing they call a nicotine fit, well it's fucking real, as real as fingernails on a chalkboard. it still happens to me, happened all day today as a matter of fact, even years after i haven't touched the things. and so i sympathize deeply with everyone out there trying to kick a bad habit. it takes a lot of guts. it is painful. through my own struggles, i realized the true superpower of addiction, and how closely tied it is to anxiety. every time i'm anxious, my body gets all pent up and needs some kind of release. and now, i realize where the term getting a fix came from. the fix is supposed to fix how you feel, if you're depressed or anxious or what have you. but you and i both know, it typically doesn't fix anything. typically, it does the opposite. but you try and tell that to someone who is addicted.