I’ve been smoking Lucky Strikes for weeks because they’re cheap and I’m dirt floor poor in this season of my life.
This Marlboro black menthol 100 feels absolutely fucking luxurious. I savor each and every drag and exhale slowly, watch the smoke trail away, little wisps in the air.
I shouldn’t have bought them. They’re two dollars more per pack, and that starts hurting quick when you’re a pack (and some change) a day smoker. But goddamn I just wanted to feel Not Poor for a few minutes.
I sit on my front porch and I stub out the cigarette and immediately light another, and for a few moments I am the richest person on earth.
(Disclaimer: I’m very aware that cigarettes are terrible for humans and that I’m having a moment and romanticizing my crippling nicotine addiction.)
I too am not a bit tamed—I too am untranslatable 