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Showing posts with label cigarettes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cigarettes. Show all posts

Sunday, October 13, 2013

.405 vice

i used to be unnaturally drawn to people who smoked cigarettes when i was a younger. the goth, emo teenager, with black finger nails and ripped jeans waiting at a bus stop, the forty-something single mom i baby-sat for, who wore shimmering red nails and drank her beer in wine glasses, the laid-back wife, of a gambling man, who kept cigarettes pursed between her lips, no hands, yet, never dropping it while she spoke.

sprawled across my girlfriend's bed while she vented about life's ills, parting and curling pieces of her newly dyed red hair, i secretly longed to take pictures of her smoking. fevered drags and exasperated exhales and a cigarette fashioned between two fingers. i listened and nodded and gave appropriate "oh no she didn't" retorts while my mind snapped mental pictures freezing the moments she released frustrated sighs and spiraling smoke. but, like me, i know she bares her vices in the dark, so asking her to take pictures was practically pointless (as she wouldn't even let me shoot her hands due to the identity telling tattoos on them). so, in the end, i simply settled for the next best thing(s): the typical paraphernalia of a typical smoker.




Tuesday, September 25, 2012

.033 day 23

meet lamont. libra born. philly raised. spanish, black and caucasian mixed. drunk off cheap beer, sitting in corner store, charging up busted phone...alone. asked me for my number, i declined. asked me for a light, i had none. asked me for 'just a moment of my time', and that i freely shared. 

spoke of his recent divorce, the loss of his home and of the justice system dictating his right to parent. of his sons, nine and eleven, getting caught between the cross-fire, of how without them in his life, his world meaning nothing, and cheap beer and stale smokes, now everything. professed his unwavering faith in the power of love and how deeply saddened he was when he found his wife to be a non-believer. of wanting nothing more than to abandon his high and get lifted off of love again. 

asked me did i believe (i do), have i ever felt it (i have) and would i do anything in my power to keep it (i will). the last of his beer, gone, he thanked me for listening and i thanked him for talking, as he stumbled up to the window to elevate his low-lying high...