Smokers' Lungs

I have developed a new appreciation... better yet, understanding for smokers.

It's 5am, and my brain is running rampant so bare with me.

Let's set the scene:

I'm copying statistic notes in a friends room around 3:30 this morning when the electricity in our building goes out. Lucky for me, his window faces Broad St. so I finished taking notes by the window- allowing the light to make his notes visible. I spent the following night in the Tech Center with the intention of leaving from there for my 10:40 class- only to take a nap around 9am, wake up around 10:10 with 30 minutes to spare, go back to sleep, and wake back up at 12:15 in the afternoon. As a result, I missed my first class, was dead tired, and I slept my day away.

Back to the program: I finish taking notes, and now I'm preparing to walk to the Tech Center to work on the same paper I should have done the night before... for real this time. My roommate has to hold the door open for me while I pack my bag because the lights in our hallway are still on for some reason (despite all the electricity being out), and unlike my friend from earlier- our window faces another apartment building and brings no light into our room. Anywho, I'm walking down the stairwell at 4am and have the sudden urge to smoke a Clove on the way there.

I was introduced to these by Mr. Wallace and actually had 3 on me compliments of a not so old acquaintance/new friend, Terence. In the past few days, I've smoked twice- but whose counting? Whatever the case, I borrow a lighter from the security guard in our building, light it outside, return the lighter, and begin my trek to the Tech Center. While walking, I begin to wonder if I now consider myself a smoker. I have officially "borrowed a lighter". I hate the way that sounds, and I'm wondering if I've fooled myself into believing that I'm not a real smoker because it's a Clove, not a real cigarette. Better yet, I'm wondering if this is just a phase I'm going through.

After a few pulls, this all seems like nonsense. All I know is that Cloves give me this calming feeling. It's like a mild high. And it occurs to me that American cigarettes may have the same effect which is why people smoke them when they're stressed. I don't plan on experiencing their effects first hand for comparison, but it was just a thought. (Again, I'm telling myself that Cloves are a better type of smoke... or something) I was stressing in my head because I slept the day away and didn't do some of the things I had planned, but this all washes away. After the first pulls set in, I was just a college student, walking to the Tech at 4 in the morning, smoking. I pass a few people and I wonder if seeing me smoking triggers any thoughts in their heads. I know a thought or two might cross my mind when I see others smoking. Damn the worries that come with the way people perceive you!

I get to the Tech, I'm not finished with the Clove, a fellow smoker sitting down gives a slight smile and tells me the seats aren't wet (it was raining earlier)- so I take a seat and finish smoking. I felt like we shared this common bond. Weird, right? Another thought hits me. I hate the way smoking makes the back of my throat burn. However, I let the burn set in today and waited for the feeling to pass so I could really inhale. The burning was only momentary and it made me think, "this too shall pass". In short, I compared it to the other various trials I go through. It only hurts for a moment. Just as soon as this thought comes, I've clearly inhaled too much because I'm coughing. Guess that was God telling me, "Na, it's nothing like that."

At this time, I take a silent vow to myself that if I am, indeed, a smoker- I will not be the type of smoker who puts their cigarettes out anywhere, leaves burnt marks on everything, and carelessly discards their cigarettes on the ground. Of course, I look down and see a bunch of cigarettes at my feet. I can't help but wonder, what was their owners story, what were they going through when they lit their cigarette, in what area of their life did they need calming? Maybe I'm thinking too much.. but it be like that sometimes.

I also notice the value of my hands and compare smoking to my poetry. I hold my pen between two fingers when putting my feelings on paper. That is the way I relieve myself. I hold Cloves between two fingers and the effect of the cigarette gives me relaxation. I don't know. My only hope is to not develop smokers' lungs. After all, my voice is my most powerful weapon. What good would it do me if it's being transmitted through a plastic object placed in the middle of my throat?

A Smoker?
B