![]() |
| | LinkBack | Thread Tools | Display Modes |
| |||
| Well, I first started smoking something else... But I just really like the act of smoking, I don't really know why, but I love it. So, I decided I wanted something I could smoke in public, legally. |
| |||
| This may sound weird, but I was an anti-smoking zealot as a kid. I was the one that put my dad's cigarettes under the water faucet. But when I was about 13 I started having vivid dreams about smoking. I would wake up saying "wow" that was intense. This lead to a curiosity in smoking. I didn't smoke my first cigarette till I was 16. But after the first cigarette, I knew I hooked. Not physically, but psychologically. About a yr later, I had a job as a cook, where everyone would step out for smoke breaks but myself. I told myself, if you want a break, you need to step out with the others for a cigarette. I used this as an excuse to take up smoking on a regular basis. I was 17, I've been smoking ever since. I have tried to quit smoking several time since then, with no success. I smoke about 10-15 cigs a day. I don't have the motivation to quit. I still enjoy smoking, and might have the motivation to quit when I'm older. |
| |||
| Peer pressure,my friends smoked so I started,made me really sick the first few times,Marlboro reds and original Winston.23 years later I wish I never smoked,I like to smoke but it is really hard on the body.With the anti smokers taking away all of our rights you feel like a criminal anymore.Dan |
| |||
| Mom said I was smoke tolerant, even smoke friendly, as an infant. Some of my earliest memories have to do with smoke filled rooms and cars. Used to bug my father for hits off his pipe at four. Told me to get lost so I'd go to my mother and ask her when i could start. Her responses were "you're much too young" and later, simply as "You're too young". I felt a little better when it changed to "Maybe in a few years". Meanwhile, I was taking uninhaled puffs from her unattended Chesterfields. Got my hand slapped a few times. In the first grade I was inhaling discarded butts found on Chicago streets or the nearby Lincoln Park Zoo. It wasn't long before I was stealing individual cigs from her packs. That escalated to stealing $0.25 from her change drawer and buying my own unfiltered packs; always selecting a different brand. I was caught at eight and interrogated by my mother. She concluded that "the horse was out of the barn" and allowed me to smoke with her as long as I did not tell my brothers. We set up a code where I would touch her anywhere and she would pass her cigarette to me. I would usually wait until it was nearly a butt and then I would finish it off with two or three desperate lip-burning drags. She was always transfixed by the spectacle and told many years later that it would sometimes excite her. She also liked to show me off to her girlfriends who thought it was hilarious. Some of them called me "The Fiend". I was out of the closet in the fifth grade and smoking a pack plus per day on weekends. Father was long gone and brothers have never taken a puff. In my class of about 30, there was only one other known smoker. |
![]() |
| Bookmarks |
| Thread Tools | |
| Display Modes | |
| |