Very bad day

So it’s day five of not smoking, and I’m not feeling too great. Days one to four weren’t bad. I put my patch on. Went about my day. I Wanted to smoke but didn’t. It made me feel crappy, but it was nothing I hadn’t experienced before. Just the same old shit

But today was different. It has all just hit me like a ton of bricks. I woke up feeling ok. I peeled my patch off and got in the shower. When I got out, I couldn’t find my fresh patches, and something just twigged in my head.

When I’m not smoking, the things that bother me just stick around in my head longer. I get agitated, and when I’m agitated, I am able to find more things to get mad about. It’s a kind of snowball effect. It just gets bigger and bigger until I start flipping out.

So I started being an asshole and messeged Courtney at work a bunch of asshole things. I paced up and down the house working myself up even more about the dishes and the mess and the fact that I have wasted one of my days off. All bullshit.

I eventually found the patches. But now that I am in this mood it is so hard for me to get out of it.

I fucking hate it.

Sometimes I question why I’m even doing this. So I can have more money? So I can live to be an old man?  Is it worth me treating the people I care about like shit?

Everyone is quick to tell me that I’m doing the right thing until they are on the receiving end of one of my outbursts. Then I become a cunt. my quit attempt actually effects them. They become involved. Nobody actually wants to be involved. 

Really, when I think about it. Nobody really gives a shit at all. Rarely do I hear from anybody at all the. Nobody really wants to fucking hang out or be a part of my life or talk or anything. Except for Courtney. And so she cops the brunt of it all. It’s not fucking fair. She doesn’t deserve it. 

Today, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t want to continue not smoking. But I am going to. Because I started this, and I need to fuckig follow through on something for once in my life.

Tomorrow I quit…again

Here we go again. I’ve stocked up on everything I think I’m going to need to do this. Tomorrow, I begin my 100th attempt at quitting.

This time. Instead of just going out and winging it, I’m laying out my game plan. Im getting pretty tired of pissing into the wind. I have to be real about this.

So here we go. This is my plan.

1. Remember this cycle thingy.

Since my appointment with the psychologist is so far away, I decided to do some of my own research into cognitive behavioural therapy. The lesson I took away from it was…

If you’re feeling depressed, and don’t want to do something, do it anyway…

It’s not the profound fucking answer I was hoping for when I started looking into it. But the more I looked at the picture up there, the more it makes sense.

When I first wake up in the morning, the first thing on my mind is “nope…fuck this”


The second time I wake up in the morning, the first thing on my mind is “I need to smoke”

Now if I lay there and tell myself I can’t have one, I’m going to become stressed. If I’m stressed I’m going to start acting out, and when I notice that my behaviour is super cunty I am gong to want to smoke even more.

So tomorrow, the second time I wake up and feel like having a smoke, I’m going to just let that thought sit there. I’m going to get up, brush my teeth and stuff, then go on to do something that I enjoy doing… Probably video games.

I’m not going to fight the urge to smoke, I’m just going to let it be there, whilst I do other shit.

I haven’t really tried this yet, but it sounds good in theory. So we will see how it goes.

2. Avoid triggers

I need to try and stay away from all the things that make me want to smoke. At least for the first week or so.

Here is a list of things that make me want to smoke

  • Coffee
  • Alcohol
  • Sex
  • Driving
  • Walking
  • A decent meal
  • A shitty meal
  • Stress
  • Excitement
  • Advertisements
  • Miserable people
  • Condescending people
  • People in general
  • A Current Affair
  • Waking up
  • Trying to sleep
  • Winning a round of call of duty
  • Losing a round of call of duty
  • Catching up with friends
  • Being alone
  • Smelling other smokers
  • People telling me I’m doing good by not smoking
  • Going to the shop
  • Going to work
  • Having a shower

…you get the point
I’ll try anyway..

3. Stay strong

Sometimes it will be impossible for me to avoid triggers (obviously)

I can’t just not go to work in order to avoid a certain few wonderful characters. I can’t just not catch up with friends because they all fucking smoke.

In these situations I just need to suck it up, and not give in. I will remove my self from the situation for a moment. Take some mindfulness breaths, maybe imagine myself head butting the trigger, have a giggle, and then return fresh as a daisy.

Sounds good hey?

4. Be proud of what I am doing.

Tis is something I really need to work on. Usually when I do a good thing, I just downplay it in my head for some stupid reason. This time I will remember that what I’m doing is fucking hard, but I am doing it, and I deserve to be proud of it.

My supply’s are ready for me in the morning.

I will be soaking those smokes in water though… Just to be safe.

If anyone has any tips feel free to let me know before I get too irritable to listen to you 🙂

Wish me luck… Again

Thoughts on my own mortality.

Death isn’t a subject people like to talk about. It isn’t something we fully understand, and it’s fucking scary. So we tend to just push it to the back of our minds and get on with living.

I struggle to do this.

For a long time it has been one of those things that plays on my mind once I get I get into bed, where there is nothing to distract me from my own thoughts.

The thought of an afterlife has never made any kind of logical sense to me, and the idea of a benevolent god that judges us on our behaviour, and actively intervenes, doesn’t seem likely to me either. To me, organised religion is one of the biggest tradgedies in human history. The atrocities committed in the name of God have made the world a horrible and scary place to live.

So I am unable to put my faith in something like that.

I do sometimes consider the idea of a God that is more impartial. Neither good nor bad. A God that creates for the sake of creating, and doesn’t judge or  involve itself the affairs of humans, because it has the entire universe to worry about.

Maybe we are just individual manifestations of a universal consciousness. Created as a way for it to experience itself. And the illusion of the “self” and being seperate from eachother is created simply because our brains aren’t physically connected, so our individual experiences are separated. So we own those experiences, and call them “mine” and “yours”

Or maybe there is something more, that we as humans are unable to comprehend at this point in time. Like a monkey trying to understand philosophy. Maybe our brains just aren’t ready for God yet.

Either way, without proof, it takes a big fucking leap of faith either way. That’s not something I’m keen on doing.

So that really only leaves one option for me.

Death must be the full stop on my life. It must be the end.

This has been a source of anxiety for me for a while. Eternal nothingness, Non-existence, holy fuck is it scary.

Regularly witnessing disease and death at work only served to increase my anxiety.

But the other night I was sitting out the back smoking one of my cancer sticks. Thinking about how my habits will fucking kill me one day.

When something clicked.

Why am I afraid of not existing.

That doesn’t make any sense.

The only reason I am afraid of death. Is because I am trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. The experience of death doesn’t exist. Because there is no conciousnes there to experience it. The idea of an infinite nothingness doesn’t exist, because time cannot exist without conciousnes.

We try and understand death by thinkin of it as an experience, because all we know is experience. But that is impossible. We can’t compare the two things. Death is something that no human will ever experience. It only exists because we are able to think about it.

In the same way the infinite amount of time that passed before I was born doesn’t concern me, neither should the time that passes once I’m gone.

I don’t need to be afraid, because there is nothing to be afraid of.

It’s just the end of the book. The end of my story. That’s all it is.

I don’t want to be without the people I care about forever. I don’t want to never experience them again. This is where the true tragedy in death exists. It seems that death is only sad for those who are left behind. It is only scary for those who are left to see it.

So I guess All that is left to do now, is ensure that I enjoy the time I am allocated. But there is no need for urgency. There is nothing I absolutely must do. Because without any kind of meaning behind all of this, being content and experiencing life is all that matters. There will be no regrets once I’m done.

Besides, imagine how fucking bored you would get if you lived for eternity. You would experience everything humanly possible in max 1000000 years, then what. What the fuck would you do?

“Hey mate, what ya been up to?”

“Eh, same shit I’ve been doing for the last billion years… you?”


The art of the awkward handshake

I bumped into some old friends at the pub on Saturday night. I hadn’t seen them in a couple years, so it was kinda cool.

But from the moment I layed eyes on them, I started to feel anxious. I started getting that sick feeling in my gut. I contemplated just avoiding them the entire night.

This was because I knew I was going to have to shake their hands…

I fucking hate shaking hands…

For reasons I don’t fully understand, I have never been able to master the art of greeting a fellow human being.

I guess it’s because people like to shake hands in a whole bunch of weird and stupid fucking ways. I can never seem to predict what way that person wants to do this, so 90 percent of the time it ends up all cringey. Awkward handshakes are the worst. Awkward handshakes are also my specialty.

Sometimes people hang on slightly too long, or they want to do multiple things within a short time frame. I can’t get my head around it.

Or if it’s a woman, they go for a full blown hug, or a kiss. How long are you suppose to hug for? Do I kiss someone I don’t even know? Where the fuck am I meant to kiss them? Why do we have to fucking kiss eachother at all god dammit. Can’t we just say hi and be done with it?

In high school everyone I knew just did the “slap and pound” thing. It’s super lame, but I liked it because it was informal, required minimal contact, and there wasn’t really any way to fuck it up.

But now people are getting creative, and it’s ruined everything.

So I went to shake the guys hand.

I thought to myself “just go with the regular, straight shake. You can’t go wrong”

I started moving my hand towards his, until I noticed his hand was angled slightly upwards.

He wanted to do the bro shake.

I don’t know how to do a bro shake well.

I mean, once you’re hands are joined in that upwards sort of clap formation, where do you go from there. Are you suppose to just kinda wiggle you arms together or…

I started panicking.

I was too far gone with my regular shake.

“Abort. Fucking abort Nathan, this is going to be weird”

It was too late.

I kinda grabbed the bottom half of his hand, and started shaking. He uncomfortably tried to adjust his grip to suit mine, but before we could make it work, I let go.

We both pretended like what just happened wasn’t unbearably awkward. And I continued on to the next one.

This time, I knew what I was in for. We are doing bro shakes tonight. I got this.

I reached my hand out to the next guy in the upward facing position with my elbow slightly bent.

“Fuck yea, gonna nail it this time”

He slapped in hand clean into mine. We did the wiggle thing. It was beautiful.


He then started to move towards me.

For fuck sake… He wants to man hug.

From what I understand. Man hugs are different to regular hugs. You aren’t suppose to fully embrace the guy. You just semi-sorta put you arm around eachother quickly and then release. It’s really stupid and I hate it.

I don’t particularly like hugging anyone at all to be honest,  unless it’s Courtney, so this is one of my least favourite.

He started moving towards me, and I hesitated. He noticed that I hesitated so he hesitated. When I noticed he hesitated I pulled him in closer because I didn’t want to fuck up this shake again. I placed my arm around his shoulder without touching him with it, and patted him on the back once or twice, then let go.

I felt dirty.

Once again we pretended like it all went well, and I retreated to the bar to fill my belly with alcohol and forget about what just happened.

One day I will get the hang of this. Maybe I’ll put it on my to do list.

Why I wish smoking weren’t considered “cool”

There’s no feeling quite like coming home after a long night at work, kicking your shoes off, and being welcomed by this…

I swear he does this just to fuck with me…
I received a new vape from my brother the other day. I have already spent a fortune on the damn things. I keep breaking them.

The first one went through the wash. So I used that as an excuse to go out and buy a more expensive one. The more expensive one stopped working for no reason at all.

I was going to try and fix it myself, but there were little stickers over the screw holes that said “if broken warranty void”

So I took it the the vape shop.

Vape shops are weird. There were a couple of kids in the store sitting on a couch watching tv whilst vaping, and an old-ish dude siting on a stool behind the counter, vaping.

They weren’t talking to eachother or anything. Just vaping. I would understand if they were getting high and just sitting in silence tripping out. But they weren’t. They were just vaping. It was kind of unsettling. I don’t know why. Maybe I’m just unsettled easily.

I told the guy behind the counter about how my vape stopped working. He replied “don’t worry. I’ve fixed heaps of these. It’s a common problem”

He busted out his tool kit, broke the “void warranty” stickers and had a fiddle.

After about ten minutes he said ” sorry mate, I think it’s broken. I don’t think I can help you”


“What the fuck man, you just voided my warranty…”

That’s what I should have said.

Instead I replied with “no worries. Thanks for trying.”

Because avoiding confrontation is a talent of mine.

And out the door I went. Along with my vaping days.

But yea. My brother gave me a new one. So I’m going to get back into it.

Yet I am reluctant. Because using a vape has been associated with being really, really lame.

I like to think I’m not too worried about the opinions of others. But I am more likely to pull out a smoke in public eye than I am my vape.

And that really sucks. Because vaping is an awesome tool for quitting smoking.

People say “there haven’t been enough studies done to determine if vaping is as safe as people think”

Well yes, that is correct. But plenty of studies have been done on smoking. And we fucking know that kills people. So if there’s a choice between something that WILL kill you, and something that might, but probably won’t kill you, shouldn’t we be encouraging the latter?

I hate that vaping is thought of as being lame, and smoking has historically been associated with being “cool” it’s essentially the same fucking thing.

In my opinion. It’s all just smart marketing. It’s no coincidence that every badass, rebel and cool guy in every movie up until recently has smoked. It’s product placement, done in such a way that they have been able to create an entire image bassed around smoking.

Smoking is cool because cool people do it, therefore people who smoke are cool.

Take sandy from Greece as an example. All she had to do to become queen of the douchebags was put on some tight pants and whack a durry in her mouth.

What the fuck.

I wonder how many kids went out and bought a pack in an attempt to replicate the “cool sandy” image.

And this is why I’m frustrated that vaping doesn’t have the same image attached to it.

*warning! Conspiracy theory ahead. Please put on your tin foil hats now.*

Imagine you are a tobacco company.

“What? How do I imagine I’m an entire company?”

Just do it ok…

A product comes along that could threaten to decrease sales dramatically.

It wouldn’t take a genius to come up with the idea of starting a viral campaign about how lame said product is.

It makes sense…

It is easier for a person their immediate image, and judgment from their peers, than it is for them to worry about the long term consiquences of smoking.
So mayyyyyyybe we can try stop with the vape jokes? Maybe?

I’m exited!

This post is just me welcoming my new followers.



But I have followers now. I’m kinda like an actual real life blogger. Ha!

So I’m totally going to start checking my spelling and trying to make shit look all nice and pretty.

When applicable, I’m even going to start using..

  • Mother
  • Fucking 
  • Dotpoints

I’m happy. This is cool…

Now I need sleep, because I’ve been awake for nearly 24 hours.

Still trying… Sort of

Woa. I figured out how to automatically post this to Facebook once I write it. How cool.


Did I say I was quitting today?

Yea… About that…

I woke up this morning. Put my ugg boots on and Made a coffee, noticed I had no smokes and went to the shop and got some.

In my defence, I am a dickhead, so yea..

I can’t justify it at all.

It’s the whole “two of me living in one body” thing.

There’s the guy who wants to quit smoking and be healthy and positive and chase butterfly’s and shit

And there’s the guy who wants to chain smoke ten in a row and kick the lady who is holding up the line by trying to put $500 worth of shopping through the self serve checkout.

They are just constantly swaying back and forth. It’s annoying as hell.

It was cigarette delivery day apparently. Behind the smoke counter there were hundreds of packs littering the floor.

I looked at them and felt sick. I assumed it was a weeks worth of smokes. Could have been wrong, doesn’t matter. I thought about how that right there, is the amount that people in just this area, who choose to come to this store, smoke in a week. Thousands and thousands of dollars worth of disease and suffering, just sitting in a pile on the floor in front of me. These company’s make a killing from killing people. Bunch of assclowns.

I pictured myself going to the servo next door and getting some petrol, then returning and dousing them. Then I would flick a match and walk away in slow motion whilst “the final count down” plays in the background (I had trouble thinking of a cliche victory song. That kinda works I think)

But I don’t think I would fare well in prison.

Evil! And They have their hooks in me.

I’ll try again tomorrow. I start night shift so there in generally less stress. Unless ofcourse a trauma or something comes in, and then there is heaps of stress, but then I have no one to bludge off anyway.

I haven’t tried this one yet. Let’s see how it goes eh.
Also as of today I started trying to actively connect with other bloggers. Up until now it’s mostly been just for me and friends and family. But everyone seems to like reading it. So why the fuck not.

I don’t know how to go about this though. So I’ve just been searching things like “blog connect” and “WordPress help” or ” I need friends” and then commenting on whatever pops up.

I don’t know if that’s weird. Like, I imagine people checking their blog and thinking “who the fucks this tripper commenting on my shit”

But ima do it anyway.

So far I’ve already “met” four or five people, who have given me tips and what not. So it all seems pretty friendly.

Anyway, if you guys wana share this on your Facebook or whatever. It would be way cool of you. If you don’t, then that’s cool too. I still like you.

I wana see if I can actually make this a thing that I do that people like 🙂

I hate coming up with titles 

I stopped taking my medication about a week ago. I didn’t like it at all. Yes, it worked, I didn’t feel as down as often. But I also wasn’t feeling good either. It was like my mood just kind of flatlined. I wasn’t happy, or sad, I just was.

I don’t want to live like that. What is the fucking point in living like that. Just merely existing. Not feeling anything. Ew.

The instruction leaflet that came with the box said not to immediately cease taking them unless the doctor says. I thought about that nicoret add. How it talks about cutting down and then stopping. So I snapped them in half for a couple days and then stopped. Close enough.

I did freak out for a while. I thought maybe I would go spiralling down into some crazy depression pit that I would never get out of.

But I haven’t yet. That’s a good thing.

I am still keeping my appointment with the psychologist. I really want to talk it out. But I didn’t like the idea of just medicating away my depression. I feel like this for a reason. I feel like this because I don’t like the way the world works, the way society works, the way people work.

Maybe I should just be greatful. I am lucky. I could have been born into a war torn country. Or one of those countries where they stone eachother to death for witchcraft and homosexuality or other random shit. or one where people starve to death and clean drinking water doesn’t exist. Or one where child soldiers are the norm, etc.

It’s a toss up between hell on earth, or just plain shit.

I was lucky enough to be born into a place where we have so much that 8 billion dollars worth of completely edible food goes to trash every year. A place where welfare recipients, drug addicts and homeless and generally considered the lowest of the low, whilst there are people who could baisicly end world hunger by emptying out the change in their pockets, but don’t, and they are respected and idolised.Here I have the opurtunity to work for 40 hours per week for 60 or so years, to allow me to obtain more shit than the cunts I went to high school with.  so I can buy shit produced by those countries where people don’t fucking eat, to keep up with fashion and what not, and say ” I worked hard, I earned this ridiculously oversized house and inbuilt car seat warmers so my ass doesn’t ever have to touch my cold leather seat. cold leather seats are for peasants”. All the while everyone’s bombing the fuck out of eachother because land ownership, God, and profitable wars are things.

Look, If people want clean drinking water they should just fucking work hard like me. Bludgers..

Anyway, apart from all that, things have been pretty positive lately.

I needed more stuff to do so I wasn’t sitting around thinking all the time. So I got myself a skateboard. I fixed up my old skate shoes with supplies from our first aid kid, MCgyver style, and I have been having so much fun on it. Just cruising up and down the esplanade for a few hours. I think I pulled a muscle in my ass though. Also my foot was getting some really sharp pains in it. I dunno

I’m also currently trying to learn computer code. I’m not entirely sure why yet. I just seen a thing on the internet about how Obama apparently said everyone should know how to code. I’m not gonna argue with Obama.

It’s actually really fun. Very challenging, but it provides me with multiple epiphany moments every time I do it. Because of stupid shit like forgetting to capitalise a letter. After spending an hour searching for my mistake.. BANG.. I’m totally a genius.

Tomorrow, I will attempt to do my favourite thing in the entire world.

I’m going to try quit again.

Wish me luck people. We all know I really need it.


How many of you guys have your ex partners name tattooed on your body?
I’m going to have a guess, and say the vast majority of people reading this would answer no.
I did it 😐
“You idiot. You are stuck with that for life now. Why would you do something so stupid?”
I was 18 And I genuinely believed what I had was going to be forever.
What could be more romantic than permanently writing that shit on your arm hey? There’s no way that’s a stupid idea..
Couple years later, things turned to shit, someone I considered a best mate did something that best mates generally don’t do, and that was that.

Anyhoo, Forgive but never forget, moving forward…
now I’m stuck with this tattoo on my wrist..
What a fuck up right?
I don’t look at my tattoo with regret. I’m not embarrassed by it.
Because it was life.
it was fucking real. I gave myself to someone. All the good and the bad emotions that came with it.
I didn’t hold back out of fear of looking stupid, or doing something stupid… And it resulted in me saying and doing stupid things.
I eventually became a pathetic mess of a person.
Until one day, I wasn’t. I bounced back.
It was life, a major chapter in my life that is now closed for good. And it’s all sealed away in that little mark on my wrist.
After that, I could have learned from my mistakes, been smarter, more careful.
But instead, I did it again.
I gave myself to another. Head first.
And it was the best thing I ever did.
We connected on another level. And our differing personalities means we have problems sometimes.
And It’s fucking awesome.
Because we work together to get past them.
And every time we get past them, we become even stronger.
In just over a year I’m marrying this person, and I couldn’t be happier about it.
And it never would have happened, if all the things that are stored inside that tattoo of mine never happened.
So, maybe one day I will get it removed, but right now, it reminds me of how I went to a place that felt like hell to my younger, more dramatic self. Yet I came out ok.
Still devo that I lost a friend.
But what can ya do

The history of scatinis sleeping problems

Two blogs in as many nights. I think I’m getting a bit carried away here. My brain is telling me to do it though, so ima do it.

Actually my brain has been ridiculously active lately. Thoughts have been flying around like crazy. I’ve also been more impulsive than ever. I went for a a ride on my shitty little skateboard thing I bought from cashies. It wasn’t up to par so I thought “I’m going to go buy one of them dope longboards” so I went back to cashies, and came home with a fucking drum kit..

It also means that my sleeping habits are back at their crappiest.

My sleeping pattern has been fucked for as long as I can remember though. Mum thinks it is to do with the reflux I had as a kid. Apparently I would just vomit all the time. Never slept. Just cried all night. I don’t remember this, but I dun got surgery for it. I guess the habit just stuck.

I don’t remember much about being a kid. But I do remember never being able to sleep well. If I was at mums, I would wait until she was asleep and then crawl in to bed with her. I did this until way past the age where it would be considered weird doing that. If I was at dads I would knock on his door and wait until he came out. He would tell me to think of a stop sign and whenever I started thinking about something else, to go back to that stop sign. I still do that now..

Mum bought me dream catchers to hang over my bed, and these little knitted men to put under my pillow. They must have been like, dream fighters or something, I don’t really remember. I got a lava lamp that I would just watch forever.

Still I never slept.

When I got a bit older mum let me have a T.V in my room. It was rad because it meant I could watch big brother uncut and do things that boys who just hit puberty do without being disturbed (this was before I discovered that I knew more about the Internet than mum did, so hiding my tracks became easy)

After that I would turn the volume almost all the way down. Leave it up just enough to hear the soothing sounds of Sandra sulley reading the late news. Sports tonight was when I started to get mad that I wasn’t sleeping. Then it was big brother up late. A show that literally just cameras showing people sleeping. Way to rub it in my face assholes.

Or it was hotdogs game show. I still don’t understand why that was a thing.

Still, I spent hours watching it. I had to have the tv on because I was scared of the dark. Still kinda am if I’m being honest.

I remember the teacher at school once telling mum that I needed to go to the doctor because I kept almost asleep in class. This was in high school. I’m not sure if it’s the same story or another, but somehow going to the doctor turned into me getting a brain scan, witch turned into a rumour going around school that I had a fucking brain tumor. So when I returned, people were hugging me and crying and stuff. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. I thought I just had sleep problems and a bit of a headache.

I decided to take matters into my own hands when I got a bit older. So I bought myself one of them weed vapourisers. I didn’t try and hide it from mum as I had all kinds of weird shit in my room anyway, so I assumed she wouldn’t think anything of it. That worked well. After about an hour of deep thought about life and music and everything else, I would be out cold. But from watching friends become hooked on the stuff I decided that wasn’t what I wanted to do.

From there i tried natural sleeping pills, they were shit. Prescribed sleeping pills, they worked but I still felt like a zombie when I woke up. Weird flower juice. Tea before bed. No tea before bed. Deep breathing. Wearing myself out to the point of being dead. It all just sucked.

I have just never been able to shut of the constant steam of bullshit that goes through my head as soon as it hits the pillow.

I just wanted to put that out there so ya can understand why I always look like the living dead up until the sun goes down.