3 posts tagged “cigarettes”

I remember writing this poem what feels like forever ago. I wrote it senior year of highschool when I was on spring break in Florida with my best friend.

marlboro reds marlboro reds

the candy of all cigarettes

smoke em slow 

cowboy face

hold it in

smoke trail to trace

marlboro reds marlboro reds

the candy of all cigarettes

strong and thick

foggy haze

taking a timeout

to get through my daze

marlboro reds marlboro reds

the candy of all cigarettes

my hair is reaky

lungs are black

but I always choose reds 

in case its my very last pack

I though I was a fucking badass. I still think I am. In fact, yesterday was my birthday and I can't believe I lived this long. Obviously the indian guy at the quik mart could believe it, though. He guessed my age on the first try when I went to buy visine to go with the birthday present I bought myself. A quad of dankass weed. Anyway, I feel very tired and reclusive today. I blame all the family time last week.

I haven’t smoked a cigarette in a month, and yes, I want one right now. However, this time is different from the other times I’ve quit because before it was a health issue and now it’s a moral one.  Health wasn’t exactly a good enough motivator. I’ve known for some time now that I’m immortal.  I should’ve died several times due to a series of bad decisions I started making when I turned sixteen, and I really hope I’m done with that, but I haven’t found a cure for blacking out with which I’m satisfied…and properly hydrated.

 I had to quit smoking because I started to feel like I was getting smoked and not the other way around. It became way too much like slavery. Not feeling shackled to the point of smoking before and after every class feels great. I also started to feel uneducated and unattractive which are not goals of mine. Don’t get me wrong, I like almost everything about smoking cigarettes. I like to have one after meals, have an excuse to leave the party for a moment, and I especially like watching something burn for five minutes whenever I want. It’s the pyro in me. I even miss smelling my fingers when I can’t smoke yet and floating into a room on a billowing waft.

 Of course, I don’t miss throwing down that cash when I could be spending it on dank ass weed. I still have a totally abusive relationship with weed that I have no intention of ending. I like to hit it, and it likes to hit me back.

 The weirdest thing happened, too. I can actually smell other people’s cigarettes and cigarette stench. The fact that I never could before must mean that I always stunk, or I was always smoking a cigarette myself. I thought it made me deep and creative and quite frankly, I’m just as tortured without them. 

 I was hoping that after college I’d be a rock star until I died in a fiery career-making catastrophe before I turned thirty. That plan seems to be slipping away. On top of that, my brothers are the two most important things in my life and they both think smoking is disgusting. Joe even said once if he had tits (which I very much do) he definitely wouldn’t smoke. As the oldest, I cannot set that example. Joe wants the three of us to be neighbors when we are old like my Grandpa and his sisters, and even though I’m afraid I’m never going to die, spending those last years with my brothers when we’re all senile and broken sounds really romantic.

A week ago I was sleeping in my bed in E-town. Well actually, Joe’s bed, having a sort of sleepover with Frank and spooning with the Boss as hard as I possibly could. This restful night was the result of a crazy spontaneous weekend I brewed up and executed with Sam. We went out downtown and drank sour puss shots that Francis bought for us.  Watching Keona dance with Emily's boyfriend, Sean, was a huge highlight of the night along with those peoples collective fun factor. The next day I spent a few hours convincing Sam to impulsively drive six hours to Nashville with me to pay a visit to Charlie and Joe, some of my favorite cousins.  She nearly exhausted me to death with my extensive pros and cons list and our ferocious search for adderall. Her previous plan seemed to be a fun filled weekend of tanning and working out which would probably only be made less fulfilling by outta control munchies following massive sessions Luckily Amanda came through with enough to get us to the Country capital and Charlie, wasted the day away, got us a hook up to welcome us when we arrived.  The trip wasn’t so bad. It came out to about four blunts and three times as many cigarettes.  I also stumbled upon the miracle of conference calling and got to spend time chatting with my brothers and several cousins including a brief scolding by Eddie that I shouldn’t let Frank go pick up quads from huge black drugdealers at their private residences. I guess thats just a tough call thats not his.  Sam and I arrived late and ready to go, and we even got that sweet satisfaction that comes with successful map reading because I took a temporary detour.  Charlie greeted us with a waving hand from the street corner in front of his “castle” donning a toga and boxer briefs. It was really fun despite the level of intoxication my cousins had both reached several times that day. It just so happened it was aunt Julie’s birthday and I even got to talk to Uncle Randy on the phone whom I haven’t spoken to since I could form sentences. Joe had a hickey on the back of his neck and Charlie was all emo about his ex girlfriend but there were lots of cute boys. We smoked pot and knocked things over and some of the boys popped fungus at five am.  Charlie’s roommate.Needless to say I  I snuggled in between Sam and Charlie around 7:30 am.  The next day we drove 70mph for 8hrs back to Chicago where it was really nice to see mom and frank.  Unfortunately, Joe was doing less well as the affections of a fellow floormates homosexual crush on him escalated along with the stress of making the swim team.