I always had a connection to ciggarettes because they quite frankly reminded me of myself.

Like : how people desired them so desperately when they were miserable , how people valued them so intensly when they burned away all their troubles and treated them with such caution.

But, then I connected with them because as soon as I burned out ( became fragile and fell into a temperate pit of darkness ) my ashes fell to the ground. I was stepped upon and left all alone on the numbing winter soil alongside the damp mist and minute insects.

This is where I found my family. Other humankind just like me, mortals who have been stepped upon and wounded emotionally and demanded when needed and then suddenly despised and judged ; judged for solely declaring their beliefs. Beings that have been disregarded from communities for merely attempting to combat the injustices of our corrupt society.

My family and I thought we would resurrect and magically become unbroken and desirable again.

But darling not all stories have happy endings .