I quit smoking recently. Every once and a while, I need to remind myself why I don’t smoke. Here’s why.Firstly, smoking is death-seeking. I like my life, and I want to live for some time yet (see you in 2105!). Smoking is a symbol of the opposite of that, a symbol of my youthful angst and desire for oblivion. I still feel the pull of oblivion, but when I remember who I am, I don’t really want it. I want rich life, not emptyness, and smoking just pulls me in the wrong direction. Secondly, smoking is part of a victim-mindset. I smoked because I could not change or correct the things wrong with my life. I smoked to rebel from the stuff that I could not change. These things are no longer true for me. I can change my life. Every moment of every day I can. So why do I need to rebel against my victimization? I don’t. Third. It tastes horrible. Man, oh, man. Does it taste horrible. Fuck! Fourth, the buzz from nicotine is horrendous. It makes me shake and unable to walk straight. Oblivion-boy liked that shit. I don’t. Tomorrow is two weeks since I quit smoking. It’s getting way easier. I still have urges after I eat, but for the most part I don’t want any of it anymore.