Three cigarettes left

The dance

My parents have always been smokers, and every night after dinner, they would always light a cigarette and smoke there at the table in front of me and my brothers. I was always disgusted by it, but somehow I got used to it, and I even enjoyed being a passive smoker the same way you enjoy taking a sniff at the gas station—something innocent, I used to think.

At 19 years old, when I left to live in the city, I tried weed for the first time. I remember I was with a couple of skater girls, and they just passed the blunt. I smoked to not look like a pussy, I smoked to be liked by them, I smoked because at 19 years old, how are you going to say no to a cool, hot girl passing a blunt to you? But most importantly, I smoked because I was curious and because I wanted to.

All my life, I have dealt with depression, and when I got free access to the internet, some of the topics I would research the most, besides porn, were spirituality. I found thousands of blogs and forums of people talking about how they used substances like LSD, molly, DMT, etc. At 20 years old, convinced that I was starting an important spiritual journey to get rid of all the bad things within me, I took half an LSD paper and half a gram of molly and proceeded to go dance with my roommate. Blinded by that sweet, comforting feeling the drugs gave me, I danced that night like I was the only human being left alive. Shame was not a thing that day, and I understood why ecstasy is called ecstasy. The next morning, under the effect of LSD, I remember feeling an extreme love for humanity and all the abstract forms of existence I was able to perceive under the influence. Out of the hundreds of times I did it again, none felt like the first, and I spent countless days and millions chasing that feeling: "Just one last time, let me taste it, please." Ketamine, LSD, amphetamines, molly, ecstasy, coke, shrooms, weed, DMT, ayahuasca, salvia, crack, 2CB, codeine, alcohol, tobacco, etc... None of them did it, none of them talked to me like that first LSD trip did, but it was no longer about spirituality. It was about meeting a friend; it was about being bored or sad or celebrating something, or watching a movie, or smoking weed before eating for food to taste better, and smoking a cigarette after eating for food to settle. I started changing, and my mind did too. The depression was way deeper, making my art a way more complicated task now. Talking to a girl without giving insecurity vibes was almost impossible. Looking people in the eye was definitely not an option.

I bought blue LED lights and a speaker, and the dances were now me, myself, and I—alone in my room, dancing every time harder, every time lonelier, pouring my soul on the floor with every sweat drop. It didn't matter if my roommates heard or if my neighbors got annoyed. It was the only moment of the day where I did not need the drugs. It was the real spirituality I had been searching for so long, and only now, as I'm writing this, I understand that. If someone could have looked at me dancing like that, they would have known where my wounds are and what my pain looks like. No need for words; I was saying more than my mouth could ever do.

As for the drugs, I am still dealing with them. Luckily, it is only cigarettes and coffee now, and I'm struggling to leave them. At the moment I played the game, I could hear the conversations in my head, my limbic system trying to rationalize going for one more cigarette, the electrochemistry supporting the idea—being strong until 9 a.m. or until I think of her for the first time of the day, and then all alarms activate inside me, yelling, asking for smoke. I talk myself into "this is my last cigarette ever, I promise," while I have one in my hand, and half an hour later, feeling like an idiot because there is another one already burning.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - "You should pick that fat, juicy cigarette butt from the tray, light it up and smoke the living shit ot of it!"

There is one cigarette left in my pocket.