growing through adolescence,
i was always concerned
that one day Nikki would find her way
into MY system
via some “new” technological entity
that would be nearly irresistible.
my Aunt Mare smoked cigarettes
and it revolted me to my core.
she burned me with one once, on accident,
and it didn’t hurt like i thought it would
each ash was symbolic
of her hatred
for the life she lived.
managing a gas station,
she was forever surrounded by temptation
from a conglomerate enterprise
that wished for a new genocide
of all the world’s idiots.
i am not in the same boat exactly, per say.
nor am i a prophet,
but i did know
that this would happen eventually,
i was always hopeful that i’d have the will power to avoid it.
ten(?) years later, it turns out that i don’t.
it turns out that i like smoking a mint
an infinite amount of times more
than i do eating one.