Now perhaps this is partially due to how easily I can cave to peer pressure, or the lengths that I can go to so I can empathize with a person. Perhaps it is because I know that I have an addictive personality. Perhaps it's the fond memories that I have of my grandmother and her apartment that smelled like stale tobacco. Perhaps its the memories of the girl I kissed whose mouth held that pungent flavor of a cigarette she must have smoked not long before.
Or perhaps it's because I want to have something take away my worries, even if only artificially, for a few moments. It's not that my worries are overwhelming or that life is any more difficult than it ever has been, just that sometimes I wonder what it would be like.
The moments never last long, these cravings. They tend to disappear as fast as they arrive, leaving only a ghost of a desire behind. I see others who partake have their moments of bliss while nothing in reality changes around them. In the end I would prefer to face the world with my eyes open and able to focus ...
... until the next brief craving.