I stopped smoking around 2002. It was a simple gesture, me standing there at work, willingly giving my pack of Camel Lights to whoever wanted them. There was no real craving, no want to smoke again. But there was one thing I couldn’t drop, my lighter.
I carried my lighter after that pretty much everywhere. Leaving the house it was the first thing in my pocket and after the day the last thing I counted along with my wallet, keys and loose change. I carried to to bars, to my parents house, checked it on flights. But when people asked I smoked I said no, but always produced a lighter just in case. It was a strange thing being able to let go of something that’s proven to have a grip on the public.
Honestly, I still love the smell of smoke. I smell it in people’s hair, on their jackets. The waft when you leave a building or lingering in the stairwell on your way out. To walk past buildings and see a group huddled on a street corner. It’s just the love of the faintly sweet scent that gets me. There’s no Proustian memory associated with it, no relative moment, and I still carry a lighter with me.
I don’t smoke. Never have. Not even one puff. If I wasn’t always so broke I still wouldn’t. But, if I did have the cash, I’d start up chewing tobacco. Aside from all the cancer I can’t find one damn negative about the chaw.
I love spitting. Spitting in water. Spitting on dead animals. Spitting from high places. I can’t get enough of it. Eventually, one of my buddies is gonna take a big gulp out my spit cup. Pure gold. I’ll get that rustic worn out ring in the back ass pocket of my jeans. Most importantly, I’ll be associated with cowboys. I’m talking spending weeks out on the trail, running cattle, shootouts, riding bulls, taming wild stallions type cowboys. As far as men go, they’re only one wrung below Astronauts. And while I don’t have any proof, I’ll wager that John Glenn has some Red Man stashed in his glove box.
I guess it’s time to make some money and start a habit.
You know whats cool, smoking! So cool, leaning against a wall, looking down, raising your stare as you take a drag and exhale as to tell the world “fuck you brah, I litter my lungs with smoke and youre next motherfuck! Oh, and this butt, full of cancer, spit, phlem, cum, and my distaste for everything you stand for, guess where its going?! Right between my size 11s and your upper crust cockjuice!”
In reality, what are you running away from, what convinced you to smoke? Awkwardness, fear, morning, the walk, sobriety, those around you, television, Don Draper, money, gum, weed, anxiety, country music, that girl, that dude, your job, your class, fights, time, the bus stop, coffee, post coitus, football, problems, health, white people, black people, the others, loneliness, the cold, the heat, oral fixation, your inability to remain in a group without some type of affectation, life, death etc etc etc etc etc? What are you/we rebelling against? And then you says “what you got!” as you blow smoke in my face as if to say “fucks to you guy!” (also a totally badass reason to smoke!)
Were all pussies that cant deal with something, anything, and smoking is the only socially acceptable way to “let off some steam” without being completely drunk in public or fucked out our dome on Ritalin/Xanax/Adderol/etc. So fuck it, “smoke em if you got em” (OMG he totes wrote the titular line!), and if you dont smoke, quit being a dick and let the others enjoy theirs and get back to your own means of coping via exercise, health food, coffee, stick up your ass, pornography, molestation, ‘reading’, over eating, blogging, licking stuff, chocolate, vidja games, WoW, soda, weed and any other “anti-drugs” that the people from the Truth have given you to “chill-out”.
Me? I dont smoke anymore, I drink tea now. Filthy smokers.
Ian Bangs
What the fuck is it about smoking a cigarette that makes me feel like a normal human being finally after being awake in the morning for 15 minutes? Up until that point I am a zombie making my way around the house touching random shit and splashing water on my face, but, once the smoke hits my lungs I feel alive…Sad, sad, tsk, tsk. It’s simply because it’s what I’ve grown used to over the years. You could find me fucking naked with no belongings half dead in a ditch, but I guarantee I’ll have half a pack of cigarettes and a lighter shoved somewhere. And all it is to me, is what’s normal now. It’s normal to me to smoke after a drink, smoke after a meal, smoke after sex, whether it be with someone else or with myself, smoke cause I’m bored, smoke cause I feel nervous, smoke cause I feel awkward. There are a million reasons I smoke, and not one of them bring me back to why I started other than the fact at the time, I wanted to look cool. All the dudes who skated, got laid, drank alcohol, smoked drugs, kicked ass…smoked cigarettes. So I wanted to be the dude who kicked ass. I will readily admit that smoking made me feel like I was saying fuck you to everyone around me just by inhaling some shit that was killing me. Like “Hey, see me, I really don’t give a fuck! I’m slowly killing myself! Fuck You!”…Now, I really just wanna quit. I don’t think it’s cool anymore, I hate waking up feeling like my lungs got punched in. I’m pissed that it makes me feel normal. I’m pissed that I wanna do it after everything. My dumb ass will not drink diet coke, cause there are studies showing it can cause cancer, but goddamnit i will smoke a cigarette every minute of the day…Basically, I smoke, because I’m stupid. We’re all stupid. So fuck it.
I was thinking about quitting recently, but then I thought about how many things have to die for each human life. I wanted to run a campaign, “Martyr your species.” If only it weren’t the persistent whisper in my ear that we are a species that could bring about incredible change and benefit the world and the universe, if only we could evolve in some way. A virus that makes you stronger, more intelligent, a cough the emits pure energy. Wax-poetic. I want to fight evil with my art, give hope to a demographic, write my book and instead martyr myself for my world. Live fast, die young. With no name, and no country, I take a cigarette to my lips, light it on fire, and breathe deep.
-Anonymous
If this all sounds like bullshit, fit only for a entry in a man’s diary, it’s because it is…I smoked because of a girl that got away. Now I smoke because I’m addicted. Boringly simple.
-Pinkston.
Smoking! with so many people resolutioning to quit smoking I think we should discuss why we smoke, or don’t smoke, why we quit and why we picked it up, when we smoke, why we picked it up to begin with.
Get creative and send me 100-200 words over facebook (Bradford Purdom),if you like as long as you tie it back to smoking it will fly.
Some weeks will be deeper or more interesting than others, I’m new with that camera I don’t know how it all works yet I was impressed that I was able to hear everyone so well, so I want to save better ideas for when i figure out the correct format and can produce a better product. but its all baby steps and building blocks for something I want to make bigger.
