They told me not to smoke. Because it would disintegrate my alveolar walls. Because it would kill me. But every time I pass a smoker, I
want so much toinhale as deeply as I can until my chest cramps.
the tragic truth is i cannot appreciate things as they happen. only after it is long gone, a memory floating aimlessly in my mind, can i truly understand how beautiful the moment was. and by then it is often too late.