Smoke:2

You find yourself lonely in the dark jungle of your mind. Lost in dismal thoughts, fearful of approaching shadows, surrounded by nothing but cold gloom and pressing on from above like a giant burden, a dull dusky sky. What do you do? You light up a fire. Replace the gloom with a glow. That's what they do, the smoke rings you blow...

...False assurance, one might say: Deferring the fear, bringing closer the Death. But an assurance all the same. And then the reassurance: To have your death (and life) in your own hands and in your sight rather than in the hands of some unknown, unseen chance comer...

...So you light up. Lighten up. Such momentary relief from griefs is all that you have and need, as the night gets darker. The fire carries you through to the dawn of yet another day which might have a similar end, but probably with clearer skies and twinkling stars. But if not, you'll still have one in between your fingers. One spark will always be there.

Smoke:1

That man smokes. It's a bad thing. I tell you he is not right.


Well, what if I said that a cigarette shows a man's capacity for Joy and his longing for Activity? And a man who longs for Joy and Activity cannot be wrong.




WTF! How and why would you say that?!

Mixing a dose of celebration, the lighting up, to every dull, empty, tense, seriously thoughtful or drunk, already euphoric, already happy moment shows just that. He can never be happy or active enough. His capacity for these always exceeds the range by that one more cigarette :)




That's the problem! There's always a justification and excuse for every wrong thing.


Oh yes, that is true. But my problem is that in this sad world, there has to be a justification and an excuse for every right thing too.