breaking a bad habit


i have been smoking since high school. been drinking alcohol since college. sleeping with men since my teens. i bitch about everything. i can be a sloth. i am a bad, bad boy.

but those are not my bad habits.

those are just quirks. little quirks most people have as well.

so what are my bad habits?

my biggest bad habit can be found right smack in the middle of the country’s financial district and the city’s seedy red light district.

my bad habit is made up of concrete, steel, grease, gears, buttons, monsters and demons.

my biggest bad habit is a habit i started five years ago. and like all bad habits, this one started out harmlessly enough until i found out that i am already addicted and it would be so hard to break.

like smoking.

you don’t really get anything much out of smoking, but still, you take that drag and puff out that gray smoke, not thinking about the crap you dump into your lungs.

my bad habit is a lot like that: i don’t really get anything except for the fifteenth and the last day of the month. yet i will myself to travel a great distance, careful not being late and not minding how numb my bad habit is making me.

nothing really shocks me anymore. and that’s all thanks to my biggest bad habit.

i just turn away when i see men leave their wives and children for another and act like it’s the most normal thing in the world. i don’t even blush when i hear other people’s illicit affairs. i have overcome the urge to puke when i see people brown nose just because. and i don’t even feel a thing when people stab each other in the back. i am numb.

my biggest bad habit has taught me that all things that are right are not really right. my biggest bad habit has taught me the ‘what’s in it for me?’ principle. and the best lesson i learned from my biggest bad habit? trust is just a condom.

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