sick of myself

To celebrate my one week smoking ban, i mustered myself to go to yoga after a 3month hiatus--now this musterisng took some time, The rule is i need to convince myself the day before that i need the detox and exercise and to stop second guessing myself that im going to pass out during the whole process, it also doesnt help that the guilt trip of conistently seeing my yoga instructor accidentally these past few weeks outside my building- and everytime that i do, she never fails to small talk me a constant barrage of sermoning on why i dont go anymore, i keep convincing her that ill go tomorrow--Finally that tomorrow has come.

The yoga session-all 1 1/2 hours of it--felt like i was in some kind of hell-my favorite re-imagining of hell was that of that scene in the old school darna movie which they constantly play on PPP(Piling Piling Pelikula-yeah i know u remember!) where she battles the devil and his minions on their own turf, and there is one sequence where one of the permanent residents had their tongue pulled out and the devil hammering it with a sledgehammer... It makes for an excellent brainwashing propoganda movie for evil children--here's the perfect justification on why you should always be on your best behaviour

Going back to the yoga. I knew that i was in a different state of mind--On a normal practice i would routinely scan and filter any cute girls in the room so that i could talk to them after the yoga, but on this day i was instead scanning around the room for ANYONE who may be able to administer me CPR instead in case i run out of breath, which seems to be at any minute.

I kept on grinding thru the different poses by chanting to self-help motivation one-liners to myself. i kept on thinking "whatever doesnt kill you makes you stronger" whenever i feel i was going to give up... By the time i had the 2nd set of the triangle pose and decided to sit it out-heavy breathing and fainting psychosomatic issues included,i had already added something to the cliched line above to "whoever said that fucking line, must be dead by now"

But i still finished all the fucking poses like a good yoga practicioner should and came out of the room feeling like i accomplished the overrated impossibility, i felt renewed, refreshed and sensed that every drop of tobacco i accumulated ever since i got back to smoking, seeped thru my pores. The same yoga instructor then asked me when she can expect me to come back..i told her tomorrow. She then laughed hysterically and said, "ill see you in 3 months"