(Excerpted from a piece of fiction)
Fuck it. Who starts a journal post with "fuck it"? Meee!!
That's how I feel about you today. You are this dirty little habit of mine, that I so wish I would break off. I smudged my lips with another dirty habit. Smoking. I smoked for a decade before I eventually tried to quit.
You, asshole, feel like that elusive cigarette. Like a leechy smoke, when I do sometimes get you, eventually, I always pay a price. You stain my lips. My heart skips beats, when I have you. Every friend of mine says, that I should give up on you. As if you were the cancer on the smoke. When you are not around, I imagine having a high when I finally have you, but I almost always need more of you to get the previous high. You make my life stink, just like a ciggy used to stink my room.
You know, fucking Tail, most of all, you are the moist molded cigarette - rarely smoke, never fire!!
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