As I watch the limp rolled up cigarette between my fingers slowly burn to dust.
I think of my life
All my experiences they have faded into nothing but thoughts.
As I take a deep inhale of the ghostly grey smoke and feel it burn my throat
It reminds me of the pain I felt those nights and how it thankfully didnt last.
As it enters my lungs coating them in a flood of darkness
I begin to think
Do we need to suffer to fully appreciate pleasure?
And is pleasure nothing more than a distraction from suffering?
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