Yesterday I decided I didn’t want to be a smoker anymore.
The reasons for this decision seem pretty obvious to me now, although they were never as apparent before.
I remember what it was to begin smoking. I remember going away to uni for the first time and feeling cast adrift, detached from the social machine that I knew and understood and plunged into a morass of people who I didn’t understand and who seemed to have no desire to understand me, distracted as they were with forging their own place in a new and confusing place desperately trying to negotitate a new social ruleset between them.