Crash
Dunno

Can't move... a single muscle. In my body. I have never been in such great pain in my entire life. This is the end... for me. Tell the people who love me... that I'd like to learn their names.

Nightmare
Oh my God

I had the freakiest dream last night. I was a spider-person, like Tarantula Man... but I was NOT a hero. I was freaky, and spindly, with eight fleshy leg spikes and several beady eyes all over my face. I was skittering around on this giant web of reddish-pink tissue, and it had a giant, hungry face in the middle with mashed-up, broken teeth. It called itself Mr. Knocks, for some reason... told me I had to "open the door" for him. I don't think I'll be doing that, but his pull on me seemed absolute – like I couldn't refuse him if I wanted to, or I'd start having a brain aneurism. Then I wandered into this cave, with all these spider-egg-looking things – but they weren't for baby spiders. They were boiling and gushing with viscous yellowish blood, and these small silvery fish with little gremlin legs were crawling out of them on all fours. They were biting at each other and at the floor below, which looked like a platform made of muscle and sinew... beating black and red veins pulsed under my feet, and I could feel every single beat and draw. In the center of the room was a small, glowing orb... I stumbled over to pick it up, unable to move my feet very far – it seemed impossible to step forward, like I was being sucked down into the ground by my own weight. It made me feel like a child again, for some reason. But I couldn't wake up even if I wanted to, so eventually, I did make it to the small orb, which was kinda pinkish red, but lighter. It was an apple, I guess, but kinda crystallized. I wasn't sure what the point was, so I just bit into it and ate it. It tasted exactly like apple juice. Then I felt really happy, but I saw the spider eggs start to shake and pulsate, and grow bigger. And I felt something tighten in my head, and in my legs, and stomach. Actually, the feeling was all over me. It's hard to describe, other than... it was like my veins were running completely dry. The boundaries of my tendons and skin felt like they were paper, and about to tear at any moment.

Anyway, I woke up breathing so hard I thought my lungs were gonna burst. I wonder if maybe it was trying to tell me something? I also didn't like that it reminded me about my legs... I was born with clubbed feet, on both sides. It was surgically-corrected when I was little, and I had to wear a cast and use a walker in kindergarten... it's okay now, though, for the most part. I've got, like, an exercise regimen or whatever to keep it loose. It's usually pretty tight, though, no matter what I do. I've got this zipper scar that runs all the way down my right ankle, and a little slice-mark on my left one, too. And my left leg will probably always be a half-size bigger than my right; not just the foot, but the entire leg. It's actually kind of difficult to walk sometimes, and I tend to lose my balance just going in a straight line. But when I'm balancing on a board, I do surprisingly well – I guess because my own feet give me a lot of practice? Too bad they're no more stable than I am, mentally.

Hungry
Whatever

I can't get enough food in me to save my life. My heart just keeps pounding, and my mouth is always dry. My veins, too, still – I feel like there's wet sand running through them. Everything itches. Jaijit keeps dropping his sloppy joe meat all over his lunch tray and it makes me wanna eat it off of his chin – whoah. Wow. That thought got out of hand, huh? But for real, he's having like... a sandwich, with egg salad and milk. And that shit smells so fucking good right now. I thought I was doing really well, but my mind is cresting on that fucking smell. Like someone unlocked the pearly gates for me. Then I look at the shit and it's just mashed up ovarian tissue and regurgitated flesh. And I want him to feed it to me, slowly. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Enlightening
Sept. 28th

NICOTINE! That's the secret sauce! Jaijit must have had nicotine on his lips when he kissed me. That would explain the changes that took place afterwards... adrenaline and dopamine. I got tougher and happier, check. Then, withdrawal. I got miserable and weak, check. Reintroduction – sitting next to Jaijit could have kicked the reaction off all over again, if he consumes enough of it. It's like... in his sweat. He must smoke every day.

I know that nicotine causes people to level out, but I'm more interested in the withdrawal, when they wig the fuck out and start twitching.
"For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction." - LORD DRAXXX, 'What I Wanna F*** In You'
So people basically smoke for stress relief, right? But when their body is DONE making adrenaline and dopamine, their production of those hormones then stops, leaving them feeling the opposite of Happy and Jazzed: Sad and Pissed. Because they temporarily overproduced, they're then left UNDER-producing. The only solution, according to most, is to quit smoking, or to keep smoking. My question is, why not just change the circumstances that lead you to become stressed in the first place?

Good luck with that, buddy.

Thanks!

I'm being sarcastic.

Oh.

Lots of people smoke because they want to, but a lot of them smoke because they have to. Things just don't make sense to them without it.

What about people who start because they don't have ENOUGH stress in their lives?

What does this have to do with anything?

Look at stories like 'Dragula: The Transylvanian Transvestite' and 'Undead Undying'. They're always about narcissistic, sleep-deprived geniuses on overclock who rise from the grave in a desperate, clingy state of old age and detriment, only to suck the life out of whoever and whatever's nearby until they're young again. Then, they HAVE to sleep during the day, because light hurts them. Sound familiar?

Yeah, it's a vampire.

Look closer. It's an addict.

It sounds like you're making ass-pulls to demonize the people around you for a harmless pick-me-up that you personally don't like because it offends your puritan moral sensibilities.

OOOORRRR, nicotine could be the drug that creates the CONDITION which we fantasize as fatalistic magical power. For instance, one of the effects of nicotine is a reduction in anxiety. This would lessen a person's fear of social and physical repercussions, then the WITHDRAWAL is a fear even GREATER than what the person STARTED with. That would create an intensely confident person, who soars above the norms and creates their own original way of life in a flash and bang, and would subsequently drown out in a pool of misery as soon as the high wore off, leaving them even more insecure and vulnerable than before. That person would be a mere shell of their former selves, constantly needing approval and a steady supply of their chosen addiction in order to barely function. It's about the back and forth – the trade-off. One minute you're on top of the world, and the next you're barely worth the dirt you're crawling on. That's the exact psychological state that an addict lives in: a paradoxical conflict of superior feeling and inferior health.

You're gonna make a lot of enemies talking this way. Smoking's a huge industry, and those guys don't play fair.

I'm less interested in nicotine exactly and more about the characterization of vampires. That they're evil, but they're essentially just sick. Doesn't it strike you as odd? All of the movies I've watched, they all seem on the surface like they're about the dangers of empathizing with bloodthirsty creatures. But underneath that is an underlying narrative that we can't trust the ill. Like it's so self-affirming to treat these people like they're monsters that elimination becomes more important than understanding. What if the message that's being pushed forward is some kind of cover for a situation that's being caused by the industries at large? It's not about vampires as a concept... it's about, IF there are vampires, they are ALWAYS evil and MUST be killed. And based on the nature of these beasts, we must all solemnly agree that there is no cure, and they will always take from us what they can. For one who has BECOME a vampire, however, the story is flipped in a way that now there is a human near death's door with EXTREME needs and all around are too afraid to help them. So they must subtly manipulate, steal, and control those in their environment.
The reason I'm bringing this up is that I suspect that a vampire is actually subject to TWO addictions, rather than just nicotine. That maybe their primary feeding habits are based on a desire for MEAT, which they can't grasp while nicotine and adrenaline are still surging through them. They attempt desperately to hold on to some semblance of social normality, only to continually have the rug pulled under them as their minds again and again "conquer" those norms as an exercise in confidence that they once held dear as a private rebellion, and now becomes their undoing. Their previous reward for overcoming turns into a weakness of inability to accept the rules and morality of others. Adrenaline favors the beast, not the man. I've also learned that secondhand smoking acts like a fear toxin in others around the user of nicotine, and that it can reactivate traumas such as... being yelled at.

So?

Well, that kind of explains you, doesn't it? You're the product of every negative thought I've ever had, rolled into one. Like a toxin. You might have even come from my childhood, when my parents both smoked. Jaijit smokes.

Yeah but Jiajit isn't a vampire.

Vampires drink blood. He eats meat, milk and eggs. Soup is just hot blood and spices.

No, most soup is bone stock.

And where does blood come from?

Lighter
Sept. 29th

I just feel better today, flat-out. I don't know what the fuck I was writing about yesterday but it was incredibly therapeutic. Actually, no. Big words hurt to think. It was good. Good times. The voice is gone today. I'm still very sick, but if I eat well I will get better.
Before I can settle, however, Daisy wants me to help Crystal. We're moving her stuff into the retirement home. It'll make her feel at home, she said. Masks are mandatory there too. I've got one that has fangs on it. Hope it's "appropriate".

Drained
Sept. 30th

Something about that woman's gaze, it sucks the life out of you one moment and then burns you the next. She's a horrid old hag. She must be reverting to some kind of childlike state, because she's playing favourites again with my sister and I. Trying to make it look like I hate my sister, or that I hate her, or that my sister hates me. Soaking up all of the attention like it's meant for her at all times. The worst part is that I even care about any of this. I haven't been able to finish any of my schoolwork, and I'm falling behind in classes. All because of these extra time-sucks. I need a nap, seriously.

Dimmer Switch
Oct. 1st

It's getting colder outside. I noticed a weird phenomenon... one of the kids at school next to me was like a magnet. He kept trying to pull me in. I looked at him in the eyes, but he pretended nothing was happening. Behind that, however, I could see... that he did know. He knew what was happening and he wanted it to happen. For me to join his inner circle of victims, I imagine. But I remembered my grandma's evil stare, and I put on my sunglasses.
It was then that I smelled it. He'd been smoking, just like Jaijit. Just like a vampire, they create thralls by intoxicating or hypnotizing victims, only instead of one thrall per one vampire, they make a thrall which can be passed around from vampire to vampire. Like a network of servants that can be accessed by any of them. The Vampire Network! All of them, including myself at the moment, are helplessly addicted to the mere smell of the person standing or sitting next to them. I looked around, and everyone was in some sort of clique. Each one contained an active nicotine user, marked by their thinner skin, sunken eyes and telltale scent, one or two secondary users (with less social experience but a similar addiction), and a collection of thralls, who did not partake but were attracted to the group. The thralls, it appears, seek validation from their vampires, a chance to be used for something greater than themselves. Or to be saved, perhaps, from a worse threat. They seem incapable of handling nicotine directly, and cling to smokers as a form of secondhand use. An incredibly interesting, damning, and saddening scene of co-dependence fueled by a mind-altering and body-wracking addiction.

Is it the shades that allow me to see these things? Have I been tricked by the light, so to speak? Maybe those glares had complaced me into fear in the past, and that fog of the mind was now beginning to lift. Or is it a true case... of the Evil Eye?

Switched Off
Afternoon

I read my notes again, and I'm honestly grossed out with myself. Somehow, my reaction to secondhand nicotine exposure is to become a gigantic, judgmental nerd. So what causes me to become, as Jaijit put it, "a god"?