Smoke Gets in Your Eye's by *dogeatdog5
In a few hours I'm undergoing some new agey hypnosis like treatment to supposedly get rid of my cigarette cravings once and for all.
Thing is, I like smoking. I like the statement of nihilism and rebellion involved in lifting lit flame to the waiting cigarette end. I love the deep inhalation, my mouth and lungs filled with something more dangerous than air, more tasteful and seductive.
I was an occasional social smoker for years, until lately, when stress levels and sheer frustration led me to a pack a day and first thing in the morning light ups. I don't know if I have an addictive personality or a compulsive one, I just know that this way of sucking on a cigarette like its gonna save my life can't continue much longer coz it ain't good for me no matter how much I momentarily, and Nicotine haze later, enjoy it.
My first love was a smoker and perhaps that's why I associate yellow stained fingers with tenderness; a whiff of smoke underneath cologne, ashtray kisses. Letting go of cigarettes is to quote Lady Gaga (and why shouldn't I, delightful genius that she is) like being caught in a bad romance. Its still romantic though, deadly cool. And I'm still attracted to people who light up, I love that defiant, self destructive, "who says I wanna live forever" thing.
A friend once told me that according to a self help book she was reading "only depressed people smoke". She was a self righteous recent quitter at that point but I'm sure there's some truth in that. I just can't help thinking that the gorgeous sunrise I'm enjoying would be even more fabulous with a strong black coffee and a guilty deep drag.
"Cat Among the Pigeons"
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