I want a cigarette
I wants me a cigarette. This coming January will be five years without a cigarette. Five whole years, I quit the day Bush was inaugurated. I actually smoked my last cigarette at 11:58 the night before. I smoked more in that one day than I had the previous 22 years or so it seemed. I woke up to the inauguration Ceremony and put on a nicoderm cq patch and there I started on the road of the non-smoking. I have not had a cigarette since, not even a drag. I did at one point take a toke off a joint. I was losing my mind and taking everyone in a fifty mile radius with me so I went next door and asked the pot head for a toke, he said how do you know???
Umm hello, what do you mean how do I know, you can’t walk in the hallway without smelling it. I’d have to be a moron not to know. I took two tokes, one seemed so small, and it got me through. Now I know it’s illegal and I know it’s not good for you. It can kill brain cells and make you stupid, but if it keeps me from ripping peoples head off, works for me! But lately, I have wanted, no needed, a cigarette. I want to take a long slow drag and feel the carcinogens slowly fill my lungs. I want to exhale slow and easy and watch the deadly second hand smoke exit my lungs in to the air around me. I want to feel the sweet release that only a cigarette can provide. I am watching R right now, he is opening the blinds, he’s opening the slider door. There he sits, ready, for what you ask? You can hear the click of the lighter and then, you can hear him take a long slow drag in, he holds it in his lungs just long enough and then the slow beautiful release. The smoke encircles his head and the smell wafts in to the house. I can smell the sweet, sweet smell of second hand smoke. I see the look of satisfaction on his face. I know the joy that comes from cigarettes, I remember it well.
But in the end, I also remember the time I couldn’t breath and ended up hospitalized. I know that my mother is slowly dying of emphysema, so I know that my smoking is not a good thing, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. Because I do, oh I so do miss it!
Umm hello, what do you mean how do I know, you can’t walk in the hallway without smelling it. I’d have to be a moron not to know. I took two tokes, one seemed so small, and it got me through. Now I know it’s illegal and I know it’s not good for you. It can kill brain cells and make you stupid, but if it keeps me from ripping peoples head off, works for me! But lately, I have wanted, no needed, a cigarette. I want to take a long slow drag and feel the carcinogens slowly fill my lungs. I want to exhale slow and easy and watch the deadly second hand smoke exit my lungs in to the air around me. I want to feel the sweet release that only a cigarette can provide. I am watching R right now, he is opening the blinds, he’s opening the slider door. There he sits, ready, for what you ask? You can hear the click of the lighter and then, you can hear him take a long slow drag in, he holds it in his lungs just long enough and then the slow beautiful release. The smoke encircles his head and the smell wafts in to the house. I can smell the sweet, sweet smell of second hand smoke. I see the look of satisfaction on his face. I know the joy that comes from cigarettes, I remember it well.
But in the end, I also remember the time I couldn’t breath and ended up hospitalized. I know that my mother is slowly dying of emphysema, so I know that my smoking is not a good thing, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss it. Because I do, oh I so do miss it!
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