The cigarette is in my hand.
I continue to lose myself on purpose in my daydreams. I imagine a world where I would have a meaning. I imagine a world where I wouldn’t be a number. Where I wouldn’t be a simple person who will stay on earth for 70 years.
Even less, because the cigarette is in my hand.
I imagine a world where I will be loved for who I am, not for what I say, what I do or what I have. I realize now that I spent my whole life trying to please people. I said what I have to say, I did what I had to do, I wore what I had to wear, I lived the way others wanted me to. I lived for others.
The cigarette is in my hand.
My day dream gains in intensity and that’s it. I stop living for others. From now on, I will live for myself. I mean, if the cigarette that is in my hand doesn’t kill me. I will be selfish and I will be proud to be so. I want to leave everyone. I do not want to hear my girlfriend’s complains. I do not want to hear my father telling me how to dress. I do not want to hear my sister telling me what is better for my future. I do not want to hear my friend’s telling me how to spend my time. I am finally alone. I can finally focus on what I want and what I like. I am finally away from all those people who pretend to understand how I feel. Even my mother. My mother who would do anything for me, who would spend the rest of her life taking care of me, who would die for me to live. I want to be away from her. I am not responsible for anyone anymore. I owe nobody nothing. I am free from others.
The cigarette is still in my hand.
Now in my dream I even despise relationships. I despise people who waste their time for others. I mean, others will not be here forever. Others will die one day. Everyone will die one day. How can some people base their life on another person? Are they not willing to be free from all the demands of others? I don’t even care about others and their own others. It is just me, finally.
Me and my cigarette.
It is almost done. Should I light another one and continue my daydream where it is just me and myself? or should I go back to reality and act how I should with my parents, my sister, my girlfriend, my friends and all the others?
Another cigarette can’t harm. It is not going to kill me. Others and their judgments will. Let’s continue my daydream.
It is just me. Me and my cigarette.
2 thoughts on “The Cigarette Is In My Hand”
The feeling of being dependent and committed is exhausting. I can relate. But also think of it this way, the cigarette is also a commitment. A commitment that you can’t break out of. It’s a dependency that also undermine your freedom. Maybe the next step would be to break out of this dependency. Even if you enjoy that buff of cigarette, but it’s worth getting to a point where that buff is taken by choice and want not by mere need.
Nice writing. And it’s a great enormous world and we are here briefly, and everyone lives his life, and there is loneliness, but our deeds matter somehow.
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