good ol’ frydaze

sometimes I smoke cigarettes in my room, the window’s up, but the whole place smells, and I’m just gambling with the smoke detector like I gamble with everything.
like I  live in the crunch.
like I settle for decent.
but knowing is the beginning, and when I see that I’m all about short-cuts and free shit, that’s fine, but it’s not best. I want to say I’m losing my delusions, now, laughing away at the things that used to make me cry.