Sunday, April 12, 2015


Why do people feel the need to do something that they know will either very quickly kill them or hurt them, or slowly eat them from the inside out? I'll tell you why, to feel something, so many days pass by, with around the same actions taken everyday for most of our surreal lives. Wake up, get dressed for the day, work or school, get home, do something small and insignificant for the rest of the day until bedtime, then it starts over again. Our lives are so boring we thrive on change, adventure, or even a bit of a rush. We express this through the media, movies and books are an escape. Art work shows the vulnerability in a persons mind. 

Everyone is vulnerable but finding a way to feel safe is the best you can do. So when the right time came around she put that first cigarette to her lips and she fell in love. She loved the way she carried it between her lips, the slight angle giving it an effort to look cooler. She loved the smell, and the feeling of her tongue rub against the filter. When she would light it her first inhale was always the best sensation, the mix of warmth from the quietly lit cigarette and cool winter air, she would feel it in her throat, down to her chest, then in her lungs. The breath after that would be tunneled with cool air and the fumes from the cigarette still lingering in her body. She felt alive. 

When she smoked she made sure to do it while in the most stressful situations, she would stop everything, and she would walk to her car and she would drive for hours. She didn't have a destination, driving made her feel free, and escape from reality. She would light one in her car with the windows down and the music up. The highways winding up and down the hills of the redwoods, the freeways with three lanes and she would only stay in the fast one, going 80 in a 65. Her car would bonce with every uneven curve in the road. 1, 2, 3 cars she passes and for what? Living. By about the forth inhale she was feeling it, it was explainable. Like a really nice minute long headache. She felt she was floating, like she was gliding, or flying. The high speeds, she knew would kill her if she crashed, but she did care. Driving with a cigarette in her mouth was the only thing she did to feel significant. She felt safe in and insane, and unpredictable life. She felt something unexplained. 

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