I AM NEVER SMOKING EVER AGAIN: you have the right to punch me in the face if you catch me with a cigarette

Last year I picked up smoking.

When people pick up smoking they tell you  lot of really dumb excuses such as:

or

 or

 or

These are all lies.

Firstly, nobody likes smoking to begin with. The first time you smoke it’s disgusting. The first time you smoke properly feels exactly like walking in front of a blast furnace at a crematorium, clawing out your tongue and lungs with your own blunt nails and throwing it into the centre of the fire hearth. When that’s done you are left with a sensation that is similar to what you’d feel after being attacked in the middle of an alleyway, stuffed into an half full powder keg and that is then rolled from the top of Mount Everest.

Cigarettes aren’t fun to begin with. Plain and simple. Most of the time you try avoid having smoke clog and sting your eyeballs. It’s not until you’ve grown accustomed to holding in tobacco smoke for more than five seconds without having a lung-aneurysm (also known as coughing), paralyzed ¾ of your taste buds and ashed one of your friends for fun when it becomes tolerable.

The truth, and no one has the courage to admit this, is that the reason why anyone picks up smoking is because they think it looks cool. I, on the other hand, have no qualms of admitting the fact that at the age of 16, I picked up smoking because I thought it was cool, making me both semi-retarded but also courageous.

Advertisers since the 1920s have done a bang up job of making people think that one light up of a cigarette will automatically dim the world to a chiaroscuro hue, where everyone is suddenly in a 1920s noir film trying to be or bang the femme fatale. Sure, tobacco companies are restricted from advertising nowadays, but the sentiment still sticks.

And that's the whole condundrom: it does look fucking cool. Right until you're having an epileptic fit for creating a new strand of lung cancer. Sherlock Holmes smokes. Don Draper smokes. Winston Churchill smoked. Audrey Hepburn smoked. I smoke.

Winston Churchill attempting to appeal more to the Asian community to win electoral votes.

The list goes on.

But sometimes enough is enough. 

At this stage in the game, I love cigarettes. I love cigarettes because I’m addicted to cigarettes. It’s like a poisonous co-dependent marriage where I am an innocent girl being manipulated by my husband who never got enough love from his parents. I would swim a league of seas for cigarettes. I would deepthroat a cactus for cigarettes. Whenever I have sex, I have to close my eyes and think about cigarettes in order to finish. I want to virtually drown in tobacco smog that has precipitated into liquid form because of being so highly concentrated in a small area. When I projectile vomit, I only want it to be tar from the cigarettes I’ve smoked.

In reciprocation, cigarettes treats me like an untouchable in an Indian caste system.

But today is different.

Today, I pledge to you, all 3 of my readers, that I will quit cigarettes.

The realization dawned on me that it was simply unsustainable having both a deteriorating mental state and physical state. Specifically, it is because for some reason unknown to my inner workings, I decided to pick up competitive basketball again. Safe to say this happened:

What's that I hear you say? Why am I playing basketball when I'm 5"2, have no dexterity and smoke.

Well fuck all of you.

Now I'm only 5"2 and have no dexterity, bringing my team down.