i watched it unfurl from my lips as it broke free from the air i exhaled. it teetered for a moment, frozen for a split second as spirals and curls that bent at odd, yet graceful angles, slowly emerged from chaos.

i am killing myself, and probably contributing to the impending death of nature, and subsequently, the world as we know it. for some reason, that thought made me smile.

the smoke convulsed for a moment, then rose a few inches from my eyes, before blooming into countless particles that lost form as it lost itself in the wind.

for an instant, i wanted to be the smoke. i wish i could disappear from reality as the smoke had disappeared from sight, drift into nothingness - unconscious, uncaring.

---

the full moon gently illuminated the waves the were coming in from the sea. we were walking beside the beach. i was halfway through the pack of cigarettes that i was voraciously consuming one stick at a time.

i hate the aftertaste of smoke. i have always imagined it as what my mouth would taste if a rat climbed into it, died, and rotted.

i am killing this beautiful place, i thought, as i threw another burnt-out cigarette butt on the shore. the thought made me sad, so i killed the sadness with regret, and buried regret under another layer of sadness.

i built the most majestic sandcastle of despair in my mind as the waves washed the marks my slippers had made in the sand.

---

true beauty is in the inside. i want to spit in the face of the person who first said that, then cut him up in pieces and feed his remains to the dogs.