My cancer stick, my early grave!
My friend. My boss. My lover. My-
It wasn't always this way. Used to be I only fantasized about smoking, I never would have done it. But look at those beautiful cool people inhaling smoke and breathing it out, air made visible! And I learned the myth of Prometheus giving us fire, stolen from the gods. And the accessories, don't get me started. Carved ivory cigarette holders, platinum cigarette cases, tins with awesome graphics. So I was basically fated to start smoking. And once you've breathed the fire and the smoke and the carcinogens and plant and drug, it's very hard to get away from.
-demon who comes out smoking from a processed plant grown thousands of miles away. A rolled up piece of paper with dry leaves that makes you stink and take frequent breaks. A plant that controls you psychologically making you think that you always need more, even if you don't need more. A drug that you might continue to take in even when you have a hole in your neck that you speak thru.
But I used to do stuff without a cigarette! All the time. I think I was smoking when I first learned to drive, so maybe no that. But I would walk, sit outside. Play. But now that thing is usually with me, my companion or my medication. What did i do with my brain before I thought about whether or not it was time for another cigarette. If I was 17 when I started, I hadn't been using my brain that long anyway. It became an early established pattern.
And I have quit before, thank you. The longest was for 6 years, another time for two years. I enjoyed my non-smoking time.
Other times I have tried to quit and failed, embarrased and disappointed but so glad to have a cigarette again!
Something pulls me back in to the morass.
I knew you, I held you in my mouth yet you remain