except for
the way it
makes
clothing
smell like
burnt poison
or the way
it makes
mouths
taste like
dead tissue
scraped
from a
burning
building
or the way
it tars
your [and
everyone
else around
you’s] lungs
or the way
the smoke
seeps
up through
air ducts
and invites
Itself through
door cracks
giving you
[and
everyone
else around
you]
no choice
but to
partake
of it-
-which is
to say
-I fucking
hate it
except
the mindset
born of it;
distaste
with life
and slow
self-sabotage.
I loved this. I like its grown up, slightly aggressive punky reflection on the irritations then damaging pains of smoking. The end line so simply sums up the small pleasures.
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🙂
All my writing happens within a few minutes max, typically. I’ve never been one to put extended vigor into any of the aspects of my life I enjoy because it sucks the enjoyment out of them for me.
The impulsivity and hurried pace were purposeful, that’s what much of what an addiction of this nature is – guttural pangs and eventual caving despite the harsh realities of damaging ourselves.
Thank you for appreciating this piece, it means a lot.
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I love this. Perfectly mixes pains and punk sensibilities of smoking. The last line is perfection.
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Great blog!
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Thanks, man 🙂
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Welcome
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A piece of writing with an honest and raw punch in it! 👌
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😀 ya gonna make me blush
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