This Is Happening

Ok, so I broke. You probably figured that out; I hadn't posted in a while. It seems to me it would be obvious that a lack of posts implies that I had cheated or given up, but maybe not. Either way, I smoked, and I smoked a lot.

Lets skip how or why for now, it wasn't that exciting. I'm here to write about the fact that I'm having a profound cigarette right now. The urge to write struck and I decided to take action. Suspense ensues?

I had just gotten off the phone with my girlfriend, Teresa, and said that I was to head to bed due to an early flight I have to catch tomorrow. I told her that I loved her and that I missed her, but still said I was to bed. I was still fairly awake, so the obvious solution was whiskey and a book.

My roommate, and best friend of more years than we usually admit, sat down to work and somehow the new Radiohead album ended up on the speakers. A hookah was packed and lit. There isn't a word for how relaxing it was. The hookah ended, and I lit up a cigarette. Inside. Not a common event in the apartment, but Alex silently agrees and lights one up himself. A song ends, flows into the next, and suddenly I'm struck by... something. Life, I guess.

Sorry Teresa, I was not intending to stay up I promise.

I was smoking, nay, relishing a cigarette with my friend. One of the real ones, the ones you can't fake for sake of convenience. A friend who happens to be moving to San Fransisco in a few short months, consequently taking away the possibility for moments just like this thing of beauty.

The very nature of the cigarette at hand, and sharing it, almost feels like a collective "fuck you" to the future and it's potential struggles. All smokers, myself and Alex included, are not immune to the constant badgering from people at bars: "Cigarettes cause cancer you know. You should quit." Great, thanks. They have warnings on the damned box, I get it.

But the joining in what will be one of the last of these ceremonies, the decision to smoke way more cigarettes than is normal in a moment of extreme indulgence, was powerful. It was a simple moment, but a descriptive one. Long after I quit smoking, and long after my friend moves on to bigger and better things, I will look back on moments like this one.

Who cares about the future when you can lose yourself in the present?