i’m typing tonight out on my balcony. it’s a little chilly, but the first night warm enouogh to sit out here with a cigar. such a weird thing. smoking, that is. it is completely filthy, disgusting really, with little or no redeemable qualities. an odd pleasure. or maybe not. a lot of other pleasures could be described similarly, i suppose. i have always said i smoke an occasional cigar so that i don’t smoke cigarettes with any regularity. maybe it’s the playing with matches, or the burning embers, or the smoke. very manly. and it seems to help me relax. blah, blah, blah. let’s see what i say when i get cancer of the mouth, right?
Posted in experience, reflections
