c. December, 2008
The tastes of menthol and tobacco mix in my mouth. The smell of smoke hangs in the air around me. I can't escape that smell. It's everywhere I go now. It has affixed itself to my bedroom, my clothes, my car, my hair.
Depression creates smoke too. I wish I knew how to air it out. It chokes my brain, obscures my thoughts, clouds my decisions. I can't see through it. It immobilizes me. I wonder if it's as tangible as cigarette smoke, if people can see it hovering in the air around me, if they can smell the stench of it on my skin, if they can hear it in my voice. I know I can. I don't think they can sense it. If they could, they would just leave me alone. It would disgust them the way it disgusts me.
the smell of deep thoughts and depression attracts me to you more than the vapid stench of shallowness that emits from the majority of people.
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