even to hold a piece of a cigarette, people be staring at you like you're a rascal.
even to buy a piece of cigarette, people be staring at you like you're depressed.
even to smoke a piece of cigarette, people be staring at you like you're nothing but an innominate kid.
aside from being given the badge of being privileged well-being, and fulfilled the standard of life, neither smoking could be the best druthers.
therefore, she went undercover, caught a paper, and rolled it into a form of cigarette. the undemanding shape.
the great feeling that emerged when one blow smoke escaped out of the stick, thought up all the life's crises gone in a blow.
just a blow.
w/n: this is my very first writing to be poured in here, I had no idea but made some notions and words collided into a piece of writing like that. I'll be so much appreciated if anyone who sees this writing wants to give a tiny response at least. xoxo.