You know that ominous feeling you have after you’ve smoked one? That emptiness you feel as it burns itself out on the floor. The way it bounces up and down like its trying to get back to your life sucking force, in this personified form I always feel like it would say; “how could you use me and then leave me for death?” And with good reason, I have just made it from components, sucked it dry and discarded it like it was dirt, like it was nothing. But then I remember it’s lasting kiss of death, the carcinogens coursing through my blood stream after our short affair. Maybe this was it’s plan all along, to reel you in with the tender feeling of death. Then once you’ve used one, you feel obligated to use more of its deadly brethren. That’s it, you’re not at their mercy, they make you feel like you’ve used them like a cheap whore outside a grotesque ally. When actually, they are revealing in your life sucking abilities because in reality they are the ones who are sucking you dry, forcing you to relinquish your right to life. That’s what the ominous feeling contains.