Hello from Dublin

Hey readers. Thanks for following my experiences so far. Was not going to blog about this trip, as it was a work-related one, but after hearing about so many tragic things going on around the world, I thought I’d take a moment or two to document something nice too.


Reason number 1: although our AirBnB host was away and the lady who welcomed us was not Irish, we were received very warmly. I was travelling with a co-worker and two disabled people and she was happy to keep in touch via whatsapp; when we got to the house she sat with us for at least 45 min asking questions about the people being supported and saying how she had been thinking about ideas to cater for their specific needs. She had guide books and maps and told us all about the best places to see and how to get around. The first place we visited was the beautiful Botanic Gardens. It is the most wonderful thing ever. I have been to places like the Eden Project in Cornwall and can say that this place is even more special. You don’t have to pay to get in; once you’re in it’s super quiet; everything looks as if it was carefully placed in each of the locations and it all looks like it is literally full of love. Take a look at these examples:




You walk around this small place but there is just so much to see – the more you look, the more surprises you get. And some of the squirrels there are super friendly like this one who came to shake my hand even though I had no food at all:


In the afternoon, we decided to go to Dublin zoo. I was personally not too excited as I don’t agree with wild animals being caged up. I don’t think they have anything to teach children. However, I reached the conclusion that some people with disabilities may never make it to the depths of Africa to actually see any of these creatures so I guess I don’t see much harm in some animals giving their freedom up for that. At least that made me feel a bit better about it. And so did this peacock who appeared to want to mingle with humans and ask some burning questions.


“Err… Excuse me, will someone explain why peacocks can’t come into the shop?”


On the second day, we ventured to Howth, we had lunch in a really quiet pub (which I later realized was due to the fact that there were dozens of amazing looking oyster bars along the seafront). We had to listen to some lame Catholic preaching on the radio, which I (only just) politely asked them to switch off, the food was average, but the waiter was hot so it wasn’t so bad!

We went for a walk and then discovered that there were little cruises that we could go on. We went around Ireland’s eye – I took some poser photos – then came back to explore more. We managed to get to Ye Olde Hurdy Gurdy Museum of Vintage Radio. It was shut but the view was nice!


Today was by far the BEST day. The second reason why I love this Irish is that they are super patient. They will wait for you to sort things out with an enormous smile on their faces. I was carrying seven envelopes of money and nobody rushed me when I needed to find the right one. The third reason I love them is the fact that they try so hard to communicate in Sign Language.

But as seems to be the trend in my holiday adventures, the penultimate day is always the best. The Guinness Storehouse is simply the most fantasic tourist activity ever. On arrival, they spotted that we had people with us who required assistance and they came to us within seconds, took us out of the queue of dozens of people and told us to skip the waiting line. Not only they have special concessions for seniors, carers also get to go in for free, all with vouchers to claim a pint at the top of the building!

On entering the place, there is a massive sign that says you can get a free International Sign Language tour, which is recorded on a portable device that you carry around with you and can change according to where you are. I noticed the huge improvement of the experience for the people I was with!


There were loads of sensory experiences to be had. Loads of barley to dig your hands into, a massive waterfall, steam points giving out different aromas, tasting samples, loads of statues and artifacts, the list is endless!


You also got to learn how to pour a perfect Guinness. I messed it up with my last step, but got a certificate anyway:


Now I will be able to find a bar job a bit more easily, which I really need, since I recently quit my evening job – hot-headed decision but not regretting!

Anyway… The people running this place just kept impressing me more and more. When I told this lovely lad that we might struggle in a big group, he gave us a private tutorial on how to pour the perfect pint almost immediately and he also tried very hard to use sign language as well, while doing it. Wow!


At the very end, we all purchased our own glasses and had our names engraved on them. The girl who did it for us was super lovely too. She was pretty and constantly emmiting really positive energy. She misread one of the names, which was poorly written and she sounded even happier when she took the blame for it. I just had to spend some of my own money in that place. And now I am also telling you all to go there. The view from the top is also quite good:


To finalize this, I just wanted to say how blessed I feel for having had this opportunity. Thankful not only for having been sponsored to exist luxuriously for a week, but also paid for my time and paid in sheer joy coming from the excitement you see in others as a result of the things you do for them. It is tiring to have to be solid, happy, responsible, aware, creative, etc, but so rewarding. I think I have once again brought two of my biggest passions in life together: helping others and travelling.



From Polska with Love

Poland has been great to me. I had mixed feelings to begin with. When I got on the train to the centre of Warsaw, I sat in front of a really strange couple. It looked like the woman wore the trousers in that relationship. He fell asleep on a couple of occasions and she started plucking hairs off his face with her fingers, then as soon as she got bored, she would start elbowing him. When he finally woke up, he started picking his nose and she was not happy at all so started slapping his arms and telling him to stop. He reacted back and they fought for about 5 minutes. Meanwhile, she kept giving me this look that reminded me of Kathy Bates in Misery.

While witnessing this classical example of a toxic relationship, I was dealing with e-mails from my umbrella company talking about some changes taking place this week. As per usual, I came here on a very tight budget and thinking about money just triggered this slight panic attack. Plus it was raining like hell and my phone was dying. I hadn’t bought an adaptor for my charger so was beginning to think I would never find my hostel.

I got off at Gdańska and walked all the way to the centre. It took me quite a while. The first place I went to was Manekin. However, I was told that there was no table for me at that time. Apparently I could not book a table for the next day either and the lack of alternative solution left me thinking I just was not welcome. So off I went to check into my hotel.

People looked at me funny. I wasn’t too sure why. At one point I wondered whether it was because I was wearing a dress that showed my knees… But surely not. Anyway, I thought I’d be patient and not get frustrated that early on. I found my hostel at last! As soon as I saw it, the first thing that came to my mind when I looked at the bars on the windows was: “Damn! This place reminds me of that bloody awful Chinese nursery my mum put me in when my normal one closed for the holiday and she had to go to work… F**k my life”. I put my stuff down and went for some food.

I ate at a bar Mleczny. It was so weird. It was like walking into a 40’s movie. Nobody spoke English obviously and parts of it had a real church feeling to it. I ate like a pig as I hadn’t eaten since leaving Bethnal Green. I felt like it would be a sin (to them) for me to leave two pierogis on the plate but honestly couldn’t eat anything else. So I went for a walk and the city just felt so depressing. Still, I did not for one minute think I shouldn’t have come. I simply had to adjust from existing in a constant state of buzz. Here, people take themselves a little more seriously and in all fairness they have the right to. Their country has been through some really tough times, as will be mentioned again further down.

By the time I made it to bed, all I was thinking was that “tomorrow” would be better. Also, I noticed I was the only girl in the shared room of 6. The rest were quite fit guys, which to an extent reduced the vulnerability I had been buiding up throughout the day – I felt somewhat protected. A girl from couchsurfing, Kasia, invited me to go for a wander around the city in the morning and as we are both runners, we decided to do a running tour of Warsaw. So I tried to rest nice and early.

After the cheapest and most delicious breakfast served at Tatamka hostel, I sat waiting for Kasia. She just appeared out of nowhere, almost running already and she was wonderfully pleasant from the start, bright as sunshine! We went to Łakienki park, where I saw the Laocoön statue mentioned in my previous post. I also took a bunch of amazing photos including one of this peacock, which we had to illegally jump a fence for:


In the afternoon, we did a free walking tour around the Jewish ghetto (or what used to be it anyway). I learnt a lot more than I knew before and felt so proud of myself for finally taking a genuine interest for any kind of history. I guess I used to think it was pointless to hear about what other people *say* happened because you will never know the full true story, but I find this topic particularly fascinating. I also thought it would link nicely to the tour of Auschwitz I booked for a couple of days later.


That night I had amazing Polish food at Zapiecek, after which I stopped by at the Fryderyka Chopina Muzeum to listen to some good tracks and relax and then went to my hotel quite early. I fell asleep for a few hours, then woke up to the worst e-mail telling me I had failed my exam. I cried and then texted a few friends who cheered me up and helped me find the right words to say to my dad so as to not disappoint him. I felt relieved and thought I might get some sleep. In the morning, I woke up to a super nice e-mail from him and after that I was ready to embrace my next adventure.

On my way to Krakow I found some peculiar people. The worst ones were a couple (again) who were making out in the toilet (gross right?) when I opened the door. I said sorry and waited outside, only to stand there for about 10 minutes hoping that they would finish their business respectfully fast. But no… So I just went to another one. The journey was long. I arrived and it was raining like hell again. So the first place I went to was the shopping centre. I bought a really delicious fish sandwich and swallowed it nearly whole!


I had 2 or 3 hours to kill before my friend was due to arrive and let me in to her place so I went to Rakowicki cemetery and walked around carrying my massive rucksack again. I saw some amazing gravestones. Took a million pictures, which you can find on my Instagram: @barbiepeartree. I found a beautiful spot to read, on a bench under a tree. It was really poetic until it started raining so much that my book, under a tree, under my umbrella, was getting wet, so I thought: “Whatevs then”, walked around and realized my hips were a bit screwed. I just had to go and sit down at a BP petrol station, while having a processed coffee drink. My phone was pretty much dead. I had enough time to message my friend and get a few life saving tips for finding her not so obvious address. I took the wrong turning twice but finally found her, possibly thanks to her somewhat familar car, which I had seen in my hometown in Portugal back in October when she was roadtripping Europe.


Finally, I felt like I was at home. The flat was really lovely and comfortable and I made friends with the dog, who has been so nice to me. Basia and I had a long catch up, which mostly consisted of talking about boys of course. I went to bed and tried to get enough rest before my trip to Auschwitz. I woke up still aching from the run around Warsaw. The tour guide picked me up from outside about 20 minutes early, which surprised me, and the private minibus was super comfortable. Off we went to see this place…


At first, it feels like you’re entering a film set… Museums and museum linked features were built in and around Auschwitz I. It feels bizarre but not as upsetting as you go in expecting it to be. However, I think they show you the more bearable things first. Towards the end, as I saw hundreds of portraits of real Poles, who were amongst the most intelligent in the country, I began to feel the tears come out. We were also shown the tons of hair, shoes and other personal belongings that were left behind as well as the underground chambers where they were tortured.

Some things in this place had a photograhic value. I’m passionate about documenting things this way but I was not capable of publishing more than the 7 photos and even those were hard to show. I couldn’t really get over how horrible it was to walk into a gas chamber. However, the worst was yet to come: Auschwitz II – Birkenau is monstrous. It is just an enormous field that very much feels like the middle of nowhere – at the time surrounded by German factories, to add to the horror. This train line is truly never ending:


There is so much more space here yet it feels like for that same reason, there was just no possibility you would escape it. There were hundreds of barracks, which the Jews were forced to build themselves, in awful weather conditions and with no food to give them the strength. They were building with bricks and wood taken from the demolition of the houses in the village that once existed in that space. Here, I was told that women with no strength to climb, due to being so sick, simply slept on the lower level of these sleeping shelves, where they were even colder and imminently exposed to visiting cat sized rats who bit their ears and noses. It was likely they would also have been exposed to faeces and urine since the toilet was a single bucket that was not really enough for the ratio of 8 women per shelf:


So this was what shocked me the most. You really have to go see it yourself. I know of all these people who seem to think that the holocaust is some sort of joke you can make fun of, but quite frankly, if you even have an opinion that supports such disgusting ideas, you need to get some therapy, mate.


Moving on, I came back to beautiful Krakow and had a nice walk around the city centre. It is probably the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen. It’s almost like a mashup of all my favourite European cities. I headed home slowly to come and meet Basia and start getting ready for a BBQ. We had a really nice gathering. Most of the guests were goldsmiths who work with her and a couple more couchsurfers. We had the best time ever. I learned a lot about Polish history, culture and current politic affairs. We ended up drinking a little too much wine and dancing in the kitchen. I was proud to be able to teach some lindy and shag moves to the guests, successfully!

Woke up with a banging headache but we had arranged to attended a eataway.com event. I wasn’t sure what to expect of it. It was really far away and I wasn’t convinced that we’d find it but we did! In the middle of nowhere we found this absolutely gorgeous house owned by a couple who is running this business. We arrived to see a long table full of amazing food around which sat beautiful people. I was very mesmerized. I was given this goregous beetroot soup to begin with:


After that we just ate and ate and ate. And we also played a number of sporty games as they had a special bit of garden dedicated to all that. I played badminton for the first time in many years. Absolutely loved every minute. The house itself was decorated beautifully and there were pretty and well brought up children and pets around, which made everything feel super comforting and perfect. It really was the kind of life anyone would love to have. This was very much the reward at the end of the road for me, after having such deep and slightly darker experiences. We felt very well looked after, as we even got fed straight to our mouths:


We struggled to leave and as we were driving back, we were saying how difficult it was going to be to want to eat food again. I guess that maybe it wasn’t so much about the food itself but the way in which we ate that made it so meaningful. And so with this wonderful experience I end this entry. Poland has been wonderful, I am so glad I did not choose to stay and work instead. Travel is something never to regret. And even though I had sad experiences here, these felt real and they felt unusual, which is the change that makes me want to call it a real holiday.

Hope you’ve enjoyed reading.

Roma to Warszawa

So last month I went to Rome, I visited the Vatican and learnt that Michelangelo was summoned as soon as the Laocoön was unearthed. The sculpture had missing parts and Bandinelli’s view was that Christ’s arm should be extended. Today I found a statue portraying that view that was accepted for so many years. It seems perfectly feasible when you look at it:


Now the reverse analysis is that this arm was created with the making of a wax cast. It was a mere prediction of what it would have looked like. However, Michelangelo had a totally different opinion. For some illogical reason, he thought that the arm should have been bent. Only it was not illogical at all.

Michelangelo was a peculiar individual and amongst the obscure things he did, studying corpses was of interest to him. So having played with all the muscles in the body, he knew that a torso in that position could not possibly be linked to an extended arm. Thus, he did have a right to contradict this view, except Bandinelli’s view was the one most people went with.

It wasn’t until the 20th century that Michelangelo’s theory was accepted when they finally retrieved the missing arm! And so the Laocoön that you will find in the Vatican is actually the most accurate representation of the original idea, dated all the way back to the 1st century BC.


The rest is history and copies. I’m just so fascinated!


Rome and the internet

A few months ago I thought that for a living I would like to be a travel blogger. For a moment I thought that the idea was going to be like any other: I get really excited and put everything into it, then lose interest because other people are much more proficient or at least more passionate about it. Then I realized that no one is as proficient at and passionate about being me as myself and that to blog I don’t really need to be much more than that.

Today I am going to write about Rome. It is the first trip I have ever done on my own where I didn’t meet anyone I had previously known at all. Some think it’s great, some think it’s sad. For me, it feels like the ultimate act of liberation. I’ve been working so hard that making this holiday about what anyone else wants to do on the day is a truly outrageous possibility.

Before coming here I went to Portugal. I was massively under budget, but admittedly I was saved by some family and friends who were really generous and gave me some money spontaneously. Up until that moment, I must have had around €10 to spend. I wasn’t planning on asking for any money but things like busking, fasting and online dating crossed my mind.  Thankfully I have been able to pass all of those.

I am glad I brought some money with me. Can’t think of anywhere worse to be ripped off. Salesmen in Rome have these special techniques that are so next level you have to be ripped off at least once to understand. This African guy placed an elephant on my table whilst I was dining outside, I said I wasn’t interested, he said he wasn’t trying to sell anything, he was giving it away because he was celebrating his wife having had a baby. He placed a turtle next to the elephant. I then said I’d give him €1 as a kind gesture. He picked up the elephant, left this boring turtle and walked away. I wasn’t even sure what to think of it.

The waiter told me afterwards that apparently this man becomes a father on a daily basis. He was very nice to me. The restaurant seemed a little cheaper than the others I had seen, but I ended up paying €25 for an unimpressive risotto, a beer and a bottle of water (because a beer cost more than beer in London and they added service charge). So as far as restaurants go, only enter restaurants where you can see a menu in Italian only. Not only will you have better food, but nobody will try to rip you off.


I didn’t really want to spend a lot despite having been given that money so I decided to walk everywhere. Rome is truly gorgeous. Although traffic lights and road crossings have decorative function only and you should be careful because, God forbid, you might get an Italian into trouble for running you over, walking around Rome is like being a woman: there are high peaks around every corner. You begin to take in what you have just seen and “bam!”, along comes another magnificent sculpture or building. There is no getting bored around here. And I don’t know about you but I just love the smell of churches, of which you’ll see a lot. Perhaps it takes me back to being a child, when dipping the tips of my fingers in holy water was a fantastic sensory experience.

Also if you are indeed a woman, you feel so beautiful because everybody who greets you calls you “bella” too. It’s almost impossible not to say hello back. I am currently sitting in Villa Borghese, while this guy is playing the accordion a few meters away from me and it’s so much like being in Paris: super romantic. However, I was a bit perplexed to find that this park has signs for the Wi-Fi area but no signs for the toilet. I suppose if you can connect to the internet, google maps can point you in the right direction eh?


The Vatican city is a must see. It is worth booking a tour, for which you pay €35-40 if I can remember correctly and you skip all the insane queuing. I had the pleasure of being guided by this beautiful knowledgeable Italian woman who told me so much about the history behind it and so many impressive stories about Michelangelo and the Catholic life I felt inclined to dedicate more time to studying religion. I guess that once you rebel away from it so much and realize your potential as a human being capable of making self informed choices, knowing about religion and even participating in it can’t hurt. You need chaos to find yourself but order to succeed.

I believe I would come back here one day, the same way I go to Lisbon and would return to Barcelona. They are all super rich (in content). However, I feel that I should first explore all the places I haven’t seen. Either way, I think travelling solo gives you so much clarity. It is the only way I can get enough time to reflect upon each experience and find the motivation to share it with more people, in this case you. I mean, if it weren’t for the internet, how could my experience become true? How would it even matter? It mattered in terms of present energy of course even if I will never cross paths with the people I have spoken to. However, I am sharing because I think humans can sometimes achieve more when in touch with their inner universe. Get on it!

Put that cigarette out

We are all experts when it comes to giving our own opinions on a matter. This entry will be all about how I stopped smoking. I am an expert in the field of Barbara-quitting-smoking as are all of those others who have written books on the subject. Before you read on, I just wanted to say that most of it will probably not even make sense to you, but you should try whatever you think will work for you. I tried everything. And everything worked.

So it all started with fear. I saw my mum smoking every day of the first decade or so of my life. I don’t think I ever spent a day away from her and she smoked a lot. At first, I thought of cigarettes as the forbidden fruit. It seemed like a disgusting thing to do, but it had to be amazing because my amazing mum did it, so in my head I thought: “let me just grow a little older and then I’ll be able to do it in style, just like she does”.

Around about when I was twelve or thirteen I asked my mum to try it. She had always been quite liberal and allowed me to make my own choices. Thus, she let me try a little puff, so I could see how disgusting it was. I thought that much when I tried, but I had suddenly lost fear: the fear that I would try cigarettes behind my mum’s back and either be caught or feel guilty and end up telling her anyway, after which I’d get a big slap.

For most of my childhood, I also had this fear that smoke might kill my mum, but suddenly, I was not so afraid any more, I thought: “Hey, I smoked and I am OK. Maybe in the future I will do it a bit more”, but I also convinced myself that it would take a whole lot of cigarettes per day and a whole lot of bad luck for her to die from it. Besides, I was probably going to become a smoker, because that is what I saw my role model do, so we’d be in it toegther.

When I was fourteen, I moved away from my mum for the first time ever. I was living in Asia and she was living in Europe. Coincidentally or not, I started smoking. Of course she would hate to think she had an influence in this, but deep down, I believe I kind of missed the second hand smoke. And also my boyfriend and his buddies thought it was a cool thing to do. In fact, it was almost like I was addicted before I even started. That is why I say to all the people who ask me about it that I started trying to quit from the day I had my first cigarette.

I was never a heavy smoker, but I knew that one day, I would stop, just like I knew, as a child, that I would be a smoker one day. It’s just one of those things: you either like it or you don’t. But you also need a motivation to stop, if that is what you actually want. If you are reading this, you are probably interested in letting go of that terrible habit. I have had many motivations: the fact that it deeply disappoints my dad, the fact that I have been sick on a couple of occasions and felt how sensitive throats and lungs can be and the fact I live in England, where you almost have to sell your organs to be able to afford it and at this stage, I am not so sure you’d even be in good hands, if you were to be hospitalized with some smoke-related disease, with the cuts that are currently happening – so there you go, take this as motivation!

If you think about it, smoking drives a lot of business. What would be of the factory workers, the drivers, the distributors, the ashtray makers, the newsagents, the doctors, nurses, healthcare assistants and radiologists, the dentists and hygienists, the funerary agencies, the researchers, the campaigners, the teachers, the salespeople, the bankers and so on. Smoking actually creates a lot of purpose for people, perhaps more than it leads to death, but is it a risk worth taking? Do you want to be part of that cycle? Aren’t there better cycles in life to be part of?

Smoking isn’t good for anything – please feel free to add comments below regarding the ways in which it is good, if you can think of any. Initially, you get over that fear barrier and it doesn’t attack your throat so badly, so you start building a little routine around it. You have it after breakfast, you have it after lunch, you have it when you drink and you have it whenever you feel like throwing a punch. Then you have it while you’re on the toilet or after having sex or whenever it suits you. You start associating it with basic needs and therefore you make it a basic need. Then you start smelling, your teeth start yellowing, you start coughing and you start becoming socially unpleasant, because you have a little routine, which others don’t follow, so you miss out on the flow of conversations. You start feeling sorry for yourself, so you have another useless cigarette.

I tried to go cold Turkey a million times. I once ran a tap and put the tobacco pouch I had on me under the water so that I would deliberately waste it and never feel inclined to buy it again, so as to not be inclined to ruin it again. My smoker friends told me off massively, as I could have given it to them instead, but I thought that idea was great because it bought me a few weeks off the cigarettes. Later on, I found myself on the verge of having a panic attack from not having tobacco on me, so I tried to have it all the time, but not smoke it, but again, it would only last a few days. Then I tried not having it on me, but that only annoyed the smokers around me, because I’d be asking them. Thank you if you were one of those people – you helped.

I tried to chew on nicotine gum, which I thought was disgusting, I tried nicotine patches, which work when your mind is cooperating, but then you just want a cigarette, because you enjoyed smoking in the first place; I tried vaping and I guess that was the most effective method. I stuck to vaping for several weeks and when I got a bit tired with the faffing, I realized that it had actually helped me break the habit of smoking for a few months. I thought to myself: “What the hell… Buying refills, charging this damn thing, producing bubble gum smelling vapour, I look pathetic! I have been off the cigarettes anyway so why even do any of this?”.

This was when I realized that smoking had actually been pretty irreplaceable up to that point. But this also made me realize that smoking is not a physical addiction, it is a mental one: you do it, because there is nothing else like it without the harmful effects. You get addicted to it, because not only you made it a basic need by incorporating it with other habits, but you have created a gap for it in your life. A gap that allows you to have a break from the job you hate, a gap that allows you to break that awkwardness with people you have no topic to talk to about, a gap that allows you to think that having that one cigarette is going to make everything better, until it starts making good things worse.

Everyone can quit smoking. They can quit for a day – that is the hardest one to do. It’s the same with facebook. Going a day without the urge to post something on facebook is the hardest thing. The easiest thing to do is to go a week without it. Then it gets a little bit hard, because you think: “Hey, one week, way to go, I can do this any time! Light me up, please?”. Doing it for a month or even three is super easy too, but the hardest one is to have that one cigarette without going right back to where you were, smoking three, five or ten a day. I can’t say I have experienced smoking that much at any point in my life, but I have had days when I smoked a lot.

One thing I found really useful was to run. After I started running half marathons, I found that smoking genuinely felt like I was stabbing myself “in the health”. There was just no way that I could feel good about smoking a cigarette while my body was trying to be clean and strong. But retrospectively, running was just another thing I tried within the ten year period. In fact, every single example I have given you in this post helped a little. Every little thing did its job at the time and is doing its job now. Once you look at your commitment to telling yourself daily how bad it is – for years – and once you look at what you’ve tried, not only you recognize a respectable practice, but you also start thinking: “It’s time I paid some respect to my body”.

I know that different people have different perspectives, but we have this silent fear of quitting smoking that replaces that fear we once had of taking it up. Humans live off fear. If you exercise losing your fear of everything, you will actually find strength to quit smoking as well as do a million other amazing things in life. Some people may fear the gain of weight, some people think that your body goes crazy when you take cigarettes away and that this is the stage in which you will develop cancer. If that is the case, just practice quitting every day of your life until you believe that you will be fine, the same way you thought: “I will be fine, I don’t smoke that much” or “I have smoked this much and I am fine” or “I am fine, why stop now?”. Nine cigarettes is better than ten. One healthy day is better than none. A million attempts will reverse the ratio of smoking days to non-smoking days. One day you will be having one cigarette per week and you’ll think “One cigarette, why do I even need it? I am fine without”. And like myself, one day you will glance at that person who has a cigarette, you will know that you can ask for one, but you will choose not to. And it will feel fucking great! Please never ever give up giving up.