Cigarettes

I stood outside my apartment, a 20 hour flight away from home, with a cigarette in my hand. One that I had just purchased from the liquor store down the street.

To light it up and smoke the cigarette would be asserting my freedom. That I’m a free man, making my own choices. Here, there would be no chance of someone ratting this out to my parents.

But if I care about that, am I really free?

No, it is only natural to smoke. Humans historically enjoy dried leaves, putting them in a drink and calling it tea, or smoking it to enjoy a momentary high.

To not smoke it would mean I’m a responsible adult- aware of the dangers of smoking and choosing, with a concience, to not smoke. But lately I’ve seen more ads telling me to not smoke, rather than ads tellling me to. Actors in movies have almost entirely stopped smoking too. Should I then put the cigarette in between my mouth? Asserting my freedom by going against big media?

But to smoke would mean I’m just like everyone else. A dirty smoker, puffing disgusting gray clouds of air toward innocent strangers that just want to breathe the so called fresh air.

Or wait, if not smoking is the cool thing now, smoking would mean that I’m not like everyone else, rejecting the influences of everyday life to assert my own individuality.

I’m all alone here, with a cigarette in between my fingers. Only me. Standing under a tree, I light it up, and pull my head back, and inhale with the cigarette resting between my mouth, just like they do in the movies.

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