Little Cigars

Words cannot describe how much I need to smoke. It is the first time that the slimy fangs of addiction unfurling themselves. Granted, the living situation up here in OKC is trying. The stress of change abounds. It isn't so much the fact that being up here is bad, but the revolving door of guests has become trying. I am a morning person by nature. Most every one up here is a night person. Even now, at two twenty three in the A. M. there are four people up who will be awake till four . And they sleep for four or five hours at a time, making my normal sleep pattern impossible. Living in a loft for free has it's price.

Not that I complaining, as such, but I marvel at the need to inhale the sweet carcinogenic smoke out in the night time air. It reminds me of the simpler times when I didn't care about long term health. Back when I felt young. I'm only twenty two, but time has encroached on me. I find myself looking around, damned if I know how, I have responsibility. I work, I manage a 3.7 GPA, and I make time for friends and my own pursuits. Friends that like to go out and watch plays, or read books, or just sit around and talk and have a quiet drink. I don't know how I used to party all the time. I really have no taste for it anymore. I've become... Mature. Ish.

All this is trivial and pointless, but it has killed ten minutes or so. And maybe I can fight down the urge to stand outside and smoke. For now.