Breathe Me.

Don't think about all those things you feel, just be glad to be here.

'Ten Sterling Superkings, please." You hand over money, all the change you could find in the bottom of your bag. You get ten cigarettes Ten tiny little sticks that might just result in your death. Death never tasted so good. Each one will last you roughly six minutes, that adds up to one hour of unintentional suicide. These are the same cigarettes most peoples grandparents smoke. Why? They're the only ones that aren't pricey. They have foul pictures on the packets now. Doesn't make us want to stop buying them, just encourages us not to look at what we buy.

I guess, it's the nicotine that we all love the most. Given that's the only reason we're buying more, right? Me personally, no. I hate the things, those death sticks. "You don't wanna sell me death sticks, you want to go home and re-think your life". I'm a social smoker, I'm doing it because it makes me look cool. Part of me is doing it because my friends do. Another part of me is doing it because I like the routine. The bigger past of me is doing it because I'm too lazy to give up, to refuse a fag when a friend offers it or to be in the company of smokers and not have the urge to join them.

See the feeling you get when you inhave and it hits the back of your throat? There's nothing quite like it. It tastes horrible, smells horrible and doesn't look too pleasent either, but when was love ever attractive?