|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
cigarettesFriday, April 20, 2007It’s funny how you can get so many things in your mind and how you want to write about those things but you just can’t seem to pour it out. As I flipped open a box of Marlboro Menthols, I came to realize a lot of things. Aside from the fact that with every stick you consume you lose an hour of your life, I realized that with that one stick, I could get so many answers to so many questions boggling my mind. Perhaps it’s the nicotine that seeps into your lungs and leaves it black for the rest of your life; or the smoke that gets stuck in your mouth and kills your friend accompanying you; or maybe it was just the night sky that seemed to be so clear tonight. For some reason, instead of being so clouded with the cigarette smoke, my mind was oozing with clarity and dozens of epiphanies. It’s funny how life can teach you so many things – that through the various experiences you have in life, through the millions of obstacles you encounter, you become “strong”. Apparently, you’re “strong” and “learned” and “mature” when you can take in so much pain and not break down – but doesn’t that simply make you numb? There comes a certain point in your life when you seem to have experienced all the pain in the world that the next time you’re supposed to get hurt, you don’t – because you’ve already been through that. You’ve already experienced that. You’re already used to that pain. You’re already numb. Just like when you put your finger in a flame. At first, it hurts like hell – you feel all the piercing heat and burning pricks… but then after a while, when you get used to it, the pain is gone. Even though your finger is still in the flame, you can’t feel it anymore. You’re numb. Apathy is the absence of love and hate. It’s the best and worst feeling in the world. Best, because you can’t feel any pain anymore. Worst, because you can’t feel a thing. Burnout, I guess. Just like the cigarette you’re holding right now. It’s burning out. Everything burns out – love burns out and you can’t do anything about it. Whether you smoke that stick or not, it’s going to burn out eventually. It’s going to die. But it’s not going to go away. You can always throw that stick away but it’s still going to continue existing. You might throw it in the ashtray or the trash can or on the street, but it’s still there. Even its essence will stay inside you forever. Slowly killing you. Infecting every single blood vessel in your body until you’re consumed. Consumed by the nicotine. Consumed by the feeling. A friend asked me, “Where does love go when it’s all gone?” It never is. It just dies. permalink |
Post a Comment
| author.Joelle. 19. Sober.write.recent entriesyeheyang kati! i'm back! amen. awwwwwwwww. summer na!!! wee!!! mahabang-mahabang buntong hininga. oo nga ano. i want a different story. archivesJune 2006July 2006 August 2006 September 2006 October 2006 November 2006 December 2006 January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 July 2009 August 2009 September 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 February 2010 March 2010 April 2010 May 2010 June 2010 July 2010 August 2010 September 2010 friends.stuff
school supplies.pencil and papercoloring materials envelopes notebook paintbrushes clearbook |
