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[Jul. 25th, 2008|12:32 pm] |
when i was a kid, my granny and nana (we called our grandfather nana.) constantly smoked cigarettes in the house, and since my granny was, quite honestly, a madwoman, windows were barely ever cracked open due to her believing that 'people would stare inside and see things'. whatever it was that they would "see", given that we didn't even do anything strange inside the house, was a secret she took to her grave.
in their time it was so socially acceptable to smoke, that should one NOT smoke, they were probably alienated and viewed somewhat as a minority. these days i think that perspective is reversed. today, you can't smoke anywhere, not even on your own balcony. the health obsessed will even shout at you in a parking lot not to smoke near them, as if it'll instantly cause them an arrhythmia or cancer. irritating people used to make me feel good, but it doesn't so much anymore. having to deal with what people have to say about smoking is a bore. and you're forced into the cold outside to go and smoke after a nice meal, and all the smoker's outside smoking make it easier for you to decide where it's "safe" to smoke. strength in numbers.
i bought cigarettes at the CVS in burbank while a friend was filming at the grove, and if it weren't for another lady outside smoking, i probably would've hide away in some area that had no people to give me the evil eye. instead, i lit up right there. we talked about how abused smokers were, about how mark twain had once said that "quitting smoking is easy, i've done it a thousand times." and our smoking together in front of the CVS inspired an elderly onlooker, who had scuttled up to us admitting: "i'm so glad you guys are smoking out here!" and joined our conversation while lighting one up.
maybe i smoke because it makes me feel like a part of a special, philosophical minority or a dying breed of animal. maybe i smoke because it's a habit, cuz i sure as hell don't smoke anymore because i enjoy it. it gives me something to do, it's a conversation piece, because all those people inside who haven't endured the "smoker's abuse" are as young adults who have grown who didn't get spanked by their parents. they're wired differently. and since people as a whole usually end up disappointing me, i'd like to think i relate with smokers or ex-smokers better than non-smokers.
but then i see the scum of the earth with cigarettes in their mouth. nasty white trash women in daisy dukes who do it because they ran out of crack. i see little kids on their bikes riding home from middle school with a cigarette between their lips and i want to smack them.
why did i start smoking? i tried cigarettes off and on as a kid as a social tool. as some people drink as a social tool. i sure as shit didn't have the money to buy cigarettes, and when i was actually home, stealing them from my grandparents was, at first, out of the question. but eventually, they began to buy them FOR ME. saying that they'd rather supply me with cigarettes than me be supplied by someone else would would, in my grannys own words "secretly poison me" (yes, she was that paranoid.)
then shit happened and i had a lot of stress in my life. i decided never to talk about those things again, as the people who i choose will know about my past, and not those who don't deserve to. this stress lead to intense panic and anxiety attacks that even today, at times, bother me. and who was there to calm me down? granny. granny and her cigarettes. mentholated kool filter kings soft. "here, shut up and smoke this."
i am just plain bored of smoking. it doesn't have the sparkle it did to me any longer. it doesn't have the appeal. when i see somebody beautiful smoking, it's nice to watch as would be anyone surrounded by smoke. smoke is just a pretty thing to watch. it's supernatural. but now ugly people smoke, hags that go to clubs trying to look cute in their onesies, and it just isn't the same to me.
smoking tobacco was supposed to be sacred to native americans, and was not to be used in excess. excess is what causes all these diseases and shit, because americans are entities of excess that believe everything should fall onto their lap with the least amount of effort possible. i still believe that although i've decided to quit, maybe one day i'll want one, or that it'll be impossible, but i tried to think of a plan while sitting at my desk wanting a cigarette.
what else to me is as lovely as the SIGHT of smoke? bubbles. little bubbles floating through the air with their little rainbow glimmers. it also requires you to inhale, and exhale, and when you exhale you see something special, just as with smoking. i love smoke and i love bubbles. kiss my ass.
while fighting off my urge to have a cigarette, to which i gave in, but smoked only half, i went to the little store not far from my work to buy coffee and water after trying to plan something elaborate enough to make me NOT smoke a cigarette. i didnt bring any anyway, so it didn't matter.
i got two fiji waters, and a starbucks mocha thingie even if it has milk, and nobody should drink milk. she was ringing up my purchases when....
i turned away from her, to my left at a rack of children's toys, and behold! bubbles. not just ANY KIND of bubbles, but bubbles which came with a toy pipe to blow them out of.
if you don't believe in signs from "god" or the "force", and if you think that isn't a sign from the "force" or from "god", you need to start looking closer.
not only is it a sign, it's a JOKE. a clever, clever joke. |
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