Balcony thoughts

Here I am sitting on the balcony thinking about my future with a cigarette in hand. The cigarette is new. So new that I still squirm at the burning sensation in my eye from having the lit object so close the precious organ. What a hypocrite I have become, knowing perfectly well the dangers I'm exposing my health and even made people around me quit the habit. Maybe I want it. Maybe I crave a form of self-destruction... Coming strange from a very level headed person that I painfully know I am.

The life beneath me is slowly drifting into slumber; soon the street lights are going to be my only companion. That and the few cars still driven by people who want to get to places in the disturbed darkness of the night. It's a big city after all. Big, crowded noisy city I almost tend to forget about when the lack of sun light makes it look peaceful and sinless. Without my glasses the only thing I can see is an undefined blur. Probably the way I see my life right now. No direction and no definition. My twenty years of life have only served me to get more and more confused about the world. All the things we do wrong, all the things we do right; the thin line between perfection and misery. Feels like I don't want to be a part of it all anymore and there's no way of escaping from it. Spoken like a true suicidal one might think, but more like a complete coward. Someone afraid to face what's coming up ahead and leave the comfort of just being a by stander. Tried working, socializing and it felt like I was reborn. Full of energy I dedicated in order for the rich to get richer. But that's how it goes, right? No. We're just made to think that it's acceptable. Thankfully, there are people out there fighting battles to make a difference and reminding us on what true morals mean. Yes, those great people we admire for a day or two, before our busy lives make us forget.

The lucky strike piquet I bought just a day ago is starting to get lonely as its contents are being engraved in my inner cells. Soon it will be replaced by a new one eager to poison me. Lucky strike... The person who came up with the name must be a bigger hypocrite than me. Some luck I had finding myself with five euros in my pocket and decided to give into temptation.
My roommate is sound asleep, but even if she were awake I doubt she'd have a clue of what I'm going. She's not as familiar to the sounds of smocking as I am; when you lit it, when you take the first deep breath to allow the smoke to enter, the crunch when you put it out. Those I have been hearing since I can remember, but unlike the rest of my family, smoking doesn't calm me down, nor do I experience any pleasure what so ever. It makes me feel miserable, grumpy and lightheaded. The feeling of not being able to use your full qualities I despise so much. But I'll get used in time to it and it will become a second nature as it is for many others.

I bet I look cool now, sitting on a balcony, shivering in the cold air for being too lazy to get up for a jacket, smoking and typing away on a laptop. Most would think I've lost my mind, but my problem is having found too much of it than I might have liked. Soon the cold will make me retreat to the comfort warmth of my room where I'll lay down eyes glued to the ceiling awaiting for my body to shut its self in order to try and repair the damage I caused it during the day. When morning creeps out, those same unanswered questions about my future will still drill my mind until the day I let myself find the answers.