Last night, I got paid—over a thousand bucks. And I’m not paying rent right now.
Cue dramatic music. Dun-dun-duunnn.
This, my friends, is a brand-new level in the Smoking Cessation Game. Up until now, quitting smoking has been like dieting when there’s no pizza in sight—you know, the easy part. I had every penny spoken for: art shows, books, future conventions, and the glorious vision of Dan Joyce Art taking over Comic-Con like a creative wildfire. Every dollar had a purpose, and none of those purposes included cigarettes.
But now? There’s money in my pocket. Real temptation money. “I could walk to 7-Eleven right now” money. “Oh look another smoke shop popped up—was that always there?” money.
And that’s the test.
Because quitting smoking when you’re broke is one thing. Quitting smoking when you can buy a carton and still get a latte? That’s the boss fight. And here I am, sword drawn, nicotine dragon looming, and I’m grinning like a lunatic with a pocket full of cash and lungs trying to remember what oxygen feels like.
But here’s the truth:
I’ve come too far to blow it. I’m not letting nicotine hustle me again. I’ve got art to sell. Books to sign. Conventions to conquer. A creative empire to build. And like any good villain origin story turned redemption arc, I am choosing victory.
I still avoid the 7-Eleven. I still pretend those smoke shops are just strangely lit art galleries with terrible product choices. And I still remind myself: addiction is hard, but willpower is a muscle—and lately, I’ve been lifting heavy.
Your support, and everyone cheering on my art, music, and writing—it's fuel. It's accountability. It’s proof that I don’t need smoke to feel alive.
So here I am: quitting smoking with money in my pocket. A dangerous situation for some… a power move for me.
I got this.
One day at a time. One breath at a time. One masterpiece at a time.
Let’s go. 💪🔥🖊️🎨
by Dan and Bonkers
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