Portrait of an artist as a psychotic misogynist looking for one more cigarette.

 I have been trying to quit smoking for months, and I always find myself after several days downstairs going through ashtrays looking for smokeable butts. I have been during this same period trying to increase my output as a writer of fiction.
   The strange amount of growth I feel I have gone through over this alternating of self-improvement and caving into self-destruction is surprising, even if I still have all the same flaws.
   I am tired of my sexist fantasies and am trying to make more involved characters. I am tired of smoking but still, without logic, reason, or enjoyment find myself doing things I did when I didn't have a home.
    And today of all days I decided to write a blog post. Not having a purpose other than my masochist self-abusive honesty to guide my typing fingers.
      So I will close this trainwreck by answering a question I asked in a blog from last year. Question: is ok to fall in love with another man's pump and dump? Answer: if she is will to put up with your sexist bullshit than yes.

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