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I’ve always been against smoking. Even after years of violating my lungs, I still am. Light a stick. That’s what I've been doing for who knows how long. I regret it.
"What brought you into my life?" is really a tentative question rather than ignorance. It signifies my frustration of having to deal with admitting my semi-addiction to cigarettes. And finding ways to rid of it. I know exactly how and when I started smoking.
There are several worn out excuses as to why smokers lit that first ever cigarette. Few would admit there is one ultimate force behind teenage smoking; and it's the desire to look and feel "cool". Whereas I've learned it is not, was never, and will never be cool.
When it is imbued as a habit, smokers become slaves to smoking. Excuse me, my loved ones. This is not something I can turn away from in a snap of a finger. If it were easy, I would have walked away from it a long time ago. For you guys, my dear ones.
If the world we live in were to be a gigantic non-smoking area; if manufacturers will make no more of it; and if the collective efforts of eliminating this waste product become successful; I shall be thankful. A bitter sweet ending to this detrimental vice.
For now, I blame it on me. I blame it on you. I blame it on anybody. I'll take a cigarette break now. Puff... Don't come near me, you passive smoker.
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