Outside the night air is astonishingly cool for the early days of September. Five days ago I decided on a whim to quit smoking, reducing my nicotine intake to three cigarettes a day. At 10pm I just finished my second one and I cannot tell you how sinfully fulfilling it tasted. Each time I exhaled I looked down to see how much was left, savoring each drag until the butt started burning my lips. My breathing capability had become limited but after only two days of cutting down from a pack, my lungs remarkably gained strength making it that much easier to pick up a cigarette. On campus, at the start of my smoking boycott, I was truly amazed at the number of smokers that surrounded me. Non-smokers were a minority and instead of feeling compelled to light up with the influence of the majority, I found it easier to go without thereby aiding my quest for individualism.
The stars are at their brightest when the air is at its coolest. My favorite time of the year is upon as my body regains energy that was lost to the draining sun. Involved in another semester, I catch myself drifting through a life that has taken on the shape of a square and I’m drawing bored in all four corners. Attempting to accomplish the biggest accomplishment of my life yet falling short when the minute’s long. At home, cooped up in my favorite room mingling with the familiarity of security, I graciously remember how vulnerable I really was camped out in the feeding grounds of the great outdoors. It always amazes me at how foreign and distant a memory can become, almost as if it had never actually taken place. But I was there, up in the mountains of New Mexico, fulfilling the relentless urge that shall always exist within myself, aching to experience the uncertainty and freedom of the natural world. It is hard for me to bring the night to a close when thoughts keep beckoning me from unknown factories malfunctioning in my mind.