Cigarette Dos

There is a problem. oh Lord its true. Its all a lie isn’t it. The potential to be a god (s) among men is difficult.
Lets get real here.
Every cow smells crappy and there isn’t a cow that doesn’t have spots. In fact if there were one without spots I would be repentently impressed. The cowboy told me to smoke, so did the bald lady in the liquor store. They’re not very attractive people, and yes they’re human too. Ahh yes, but they have only realized the same enlightenment you have, a way to rise above the herd. They’ve discovered the key to extraordinaryidinizing all of the mundane practices in life: Sitting is now relaxing with a smoke. Standing and walking are now displays of superiority. Drinking is extra bad (M.J. bad) and waiting for someone looks like I have no purpose but to suck on something and look good doing it.
But, shit, still the herd still smells like crap. As one of the herd, you can’t hide your poo smell. You can’t pretend like you don’t smell bad, or that you are the only cow with spots, cause your not. All cows have spots. All cows inevitably poo on their own back legs. Cows breathe in their own crap all day long along with everyone else’s crap stench. Cows continually crap in the dirt, mixing it up with everyone else’s crap and then inhale it in their lungs. Everyone does it, no one is special, no smoker doesn’t breathe crap. There isn’t anyone that doesn’t smell like crap smoking. Moreover everyone has spots.
There are potentially a million other reasons not to smoke, besides that it smells bad and your delusions of moral supremacy. But of course you already know all of them. The fact that cigarette companies are man made companies, profiting off your addiction, or your herding yourself to the media under their propoganda of what, “sets you a part, makes you a god.” Bla, Bla, Bla etc. etc.
You have chosen your right to death in life, your crazy notion that degeneration in the now, makes life sweeter; Sadistically insane yet somehow aesthetically delicious (insert cigarette company ad here). ?? No its crazy. gods come and go, live and die young. When your on your death bed at 45 you will probably then realize that smoking isn’t necessarily about breaking the limitations of life, but about life itself. You’ll say to your self, “smoking killed me.”