So.. I Started Smoking..

So I’ve started smoking.
Hard to believe it, but I actually really like it.

First Cigarette: the first cigarette I’ve ever taken was during “the wine celebrations” in my home city of Rishon Lezion. I clearly remember picking up the cigarette from the floor, looking at the half-burnt butt and deciding to pretend smoking it, all in the sake of looking awesome.
Now that I think about it, I didn’t actually smoke it, just light it up. But in a way I think it’s important to note this event, it was the first time I’ve ever held a cigarette in my hand and considered smoking it.

Real First Cigarette: February 15th, 11:30PM, Tel-Aviv – Israel’s version of The Big Apple. I walk up to two biker looking Russian girls, as they try and enter their cab. “huller!!” I yell, they stop, look around and see me coming up to them. I claw both of them in, arms wrapped around them. They think I’m ******* awesome. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells. As they pull out their cigarettes I quietly demand “give me one too”.. They light my cigarette, I take my ever first puff, thinking of how awesome I must ******* look, 5 seconds later I’m choking to death coughing and nearly passing out, both Russians are laughing as loud as they possible can, as they walk away. “Damn.. I’ll never smoke that ****, ever!”

My next few cigarettes were also small puffs here and there just to try, I always choked and coughed, and my friends would always make fun of me. But somehow that just made me want it more. I wanted to try, I wanted to succeed, I wanted to enjoy a cigarette.

Since then I’ve tried it here and there, usually under the pretense that I’m doing it ‘just once’, ‘just to try’, ‘just to show my brother why NOT to smoke’, many small occasions.
I can’t even pinpoint the point where I started, because when it’s cigarettes you’re talking about, there’s no ‘starting point’. No “OK this is the day I’ve started”. You start the habit, and slowly it becomes a part of you and your life.

Actually, I’ve just recalled my first full cigarette.


OK, I was walking by myself in Tel-Aviv, hot girls everywhere, for some reason I became stressed, EXTREMELY stressed, like I was going to die or something. I could not calm down.
Suddenly the thought appeared – “I need a cigarette”. Initially I ignored it, but as you know, “what you resist, persists”, and the thoughts kept becoming stronger and stronger, until I gave-in to the urge, I did not have my ID on me so finding a kiosk that would sell me one was quite hard, especially since my charisma faucet had completely shut down from all of the anxiety I was feeling.

I finally found my cigarette, a single Marlboro Cigarette, I remember starting to smoke it in a small alley by myself, I indulged on every puff, almost choking every time, I’ve started tearing up from the lack of air in my lungs, my throat ******* burned, life was hard, life was meaningless and painful, then suddenly – the tears stopped. My throat, though still burning, did not make me cough anymore. I finished my cigarette, tossed it. And as I looked around me, all I could feel was bliss. dizziness and bliss. It was like meditation, only quicker and in a more drug fashioned way, no will-power needed.

I was hooked.

Since then I’ve smoked cigarettes here and there, with the dosage slowly but steadily rising over the past few weeks. I’ve even declared myself as a smoker, my identity is linked to it. ****.

The day I knew something was changing, and the addiction had began, was a few days ago.
As I laid in my bed, compulsive thoughts running through my head, I found myself unable to sleep as usual.
But something was different, a different force was in the background. I’ve felt a craving, a craving in a level which I have only felt for sex. I wanted to smoke. No, I NEEDED TO SMOKE. My mind, my body, my imagination, my very-self demanded it.
I managed to stop myself from smoking that night, though I’ve nearly gone out of the house at 4AM to buy a cigarette.
The next day as I woke up, smoking was all I could think about. The 30 minutes walk to the city center was excruciating. But when I finally held the cigarette in my hand – nothing. I felt empty. Like I could throw it at any moment and it wouldn’t matter. But I still chose to smoke it, it felt good. I liked it.

A few days ago I drove by myself to buy a cigarette. I could not find any kiosk that sells single cigarettes. So I asked for a 3-pack. No kiosk sold them either. So I took all the money in my car, which amounted in a very disturbing way to exactly the amount I needed for a full packet. And so, two days ago, I opted to buy a full packet, my first packet.

(this line disturbs me as it actually made me proud)

Black Devil is my type of cigarette, the most goth cigarette you’ve ever tried:

Look, cigarettes are NOT healthy, by any means. But they ARE fun, a TON of fun. they also relax me, they give me a way to kill time in social settings. They help me keep it cool and relaxed, and stay centered as a person because I can focus on something other then myself or the person in front of me.
Cigarettes are cool, they’re ******* awesome.
At least until the health problems start.

I also have a private website full of entertainment and growth, I would love if you'd look at it! :)
CodeVeroby CodeVeroby
26-30, M
1 Response Jan 6, 2013

It's so good, isn't it?