Subpar Mediocrity

I’ve always liked that title. It explains quite a number of things. Unfortunately I have to quote it, seeing as a band has already coined that one of their singles. For those who don’t quite understand what I mean, I’ll provide a link here to the song. Now I understand that rock might not be everyone’s forte, so this isn’t where I preach how great of a song it is, it’s optional to actually listen to it.

Spare me the lectures about how smoking kills and actually affects health. I’m 23 and I probably know more than most 40 year olds from New Jersey. (Not much though, many people confuse the fact that I’m well spoken because I’m well read and well written as a sign of intellectual advancement. I disagree with this greatly.) My choice of poison, either Marlboro Reds or if I felt as if I needed some fiberglass in my diet, then some Parliament menthols. There’s good addiction, there’s bad addiction, and then there are addictions that made me tear your skin off if you go without it for one day. This just happens to fall into that last lovely category. People have asked me many times what there is in a cigarette that makes me so addicted to them. Personally I’ve never liked the taste, never liked how the stench stuck to my body and my clothes, and have always hated the fact that I have to hide them somewhere in this house when I return home because living under the same room as a first generation Chinese son who smokes would shame the family name forever. Most of the fun lies therein when I actually light the stoge. The flicking of the BIC lighter along with the sudden burst of methane (I think it’s methane?) and a spark from the built in flint that creates the flames of oblivion in my left hand as long as my thumb is still on the gas release button. The feeling of slowly raising my left hand to the cigarette that’s already in my mouth, and listening to it crackle as it lights the tip. Probably the crackling of minutes being drained from my life every time the flame flickers, and that’s the bittersweet beauty to it all. That first drag. The feelgood drag. The one where it stings on the way down, yet a few seconds in, your body feels like it’s sinking from the inside out. Smoking is incredibly bad. I would suggest against starting it, but I’m not a saint, and if you have the willpower to quit, then definitely quit. It’ll add minutes to your life and save you tons of money, especially if you live in NYC. My relationship with smoking is like something along the lines of a bad girlfriend. Always making that attempt to leave, but getting suckered back because I need the release so bad. Of course, I haven’t had a girlfriend in years, so I guess this is what passes by the time.

Filed under: life by Nate