Never Quit

I used to think smoking hadn’t been cool since the ’60s. It’s gross. It smells. I like nothing about it in reality, but in fashion, in print, in the movies? It’s chic again. I’ve noticed it trending for a while. I’m not sure when it started, but it speaks to a sort of nihilistic, life is meaningless rebound from the pandemic, I guess.

Everyone knows cigarettes are poison. They will make your voice hoarse, you will hack when you laugh, you will wrinkle around the mouth, but damned if those little puffs of smoke disappearing into the night don’t look sexy.

I think we all have a death wish deep down inside. We want to be special, so we tempt fate. It’s a small form of rebellion against life itself. Against the current state of things. Wellness has been shoved down our throats along with headlines about forever chemicals and micro-plastics. Our futures are threatened by the environment, pollution, inflation, and war. Life has proven to be unpredictable and the pure nature of living chaotic. What else is there to do but take a smooth, long drag and watch the spiral of smoke spin out into nothingness?

In a world full of unknown perils, cigarettes are a known evil.

P.S. I don’t smoke, but I can sure see the appeal.