Have you ever looked at a cigarette burn when the wind blows? It burns in layers. Evenly burning as the gentle wind carries the smoke into the distance. As you stair into its red glow you notice that its progression towards the filter is never ending, aided by the wind. The wind is time all around us, the red glow is its affect on us, the cigarette its self is our life. Time affects us in more ways than we would like to admit it. At first we feel that we can do anything, that first puff. Then we take another drag, and another till we feel that high. We are in a place where things start to make sense. You look down, your almost at the filter, the end of the road. Do you savor what is left or do you throw it away?
Friend come and go. Relationships begin, then fade away. Puff.
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