Its bright out here

and so I emerge...a little humble, alot stronger and still smoke free.

Thank God for work. Its been my sanctuary for the last month and has saved me from
jumping off tall buildings, cigarette between my lips, failure scrawled across my chest.
I've been very regimented, running everyday and continuing my strength training 5 times a week. It's the best stress relief I have right now. Giving up smoking and pot gave me little choice. It was either fitness or frootloops for self soothing

Who would have thought quitting smoking would turn out to be one of the most spiritual experiences of my life? I'm not sure if it actually has anything to do with the act of quitting as much as the evolution of self. I've gained some deep, albeit messy insight about myself through this little journey. I quit because I wanted to live. I want to live every last day until the sun goes down and my feet hurt from the days journey. The older I become the more I want to learn and absorb and experience. The older I become, the more at peace I am with who Sandi is. I look in the mirror and I embrace all that I see. This is the gift of wisdom . It has become far more precious to me than flawless skin or perfect breasts. I had no intention of cutting that journey short because my body was halted by cancer. It was up to me to take every possible measure to sidestep that probable demise. In an act so defining of me, I've been inking all of these lessons on my flesh. I have 5 now, all Arabic symbols, specifically Turkish Kiln and all very symbolic of a lesson learned or as expression of gratification . My dear Grandmother tells me I should just keep a diary like everyone else .

I'm wearing my helmet. The knocks don't hurt as much and the view is fucking terrific. More soon.