i started smoking because of JonathonVreeland. Not that he wanted me to, but i think i was trying to impress him. i was 19 and a bit loopy. something in it and in him made me wonder what it was like to be addicted. i wanted to be addicted to something that wasn’t human. a more subtle addiction.
but no, it started before that. MamaDora was a smoker. She smoked all her life until she became too old and senile to trust her with fire. But when I was young, I liked sitting at the table at her house on RoachStreet the big wooden dining room table. and the smoke from her cigarette would curl up into the air. swirling and majestic in the afternoon sunlight where dust-particles also danced. i found it beautiful. i also liked the smell from Mr. Sam’s pipe.
In High School I smoked Clove cigarettes a couple times. All those kids that hung out in Broad Ripple smoked cloves with cherry flavored tips, talked about how bad they were for you and how you shouldn’t inhale.
it was difficult at first, my body rejected it.
nyc, senior year at ParsonsSchoolOfDesign on 13th street
sitting, smoking, listening to MyBloodyValentine 1...
ChaseHarlan and GrantBloodgood 2 their parties up in spanish harlem walking back downtown at 3am.
looking into Michael’s eyes through pixellated video and the smoke.
michael and i guit smoking, together, on the plane back from SanFrancisco we decided to quit, and we, just, did that.