I didn’t understand why some guys like smoking before. Most of the women do not understand anyway. But they wish they could become the cigarette, which the men would put in between their lips. Because the guys seem cant, live without them.

 I always like to drink water ever since I was little. Like the way some people treat the one they love. Every time I go out with friends, I do not really ask them for a cigarette. Smoking for me is private. I only want to have it for myself or the one who I love at this moment.

I remember the moment I was depending on it. I was waiting on the street by myself, watching the wind blow through… Crying in front computer at mid-night… Maybe at the night when I couldn’t sleep, thinking about someone, and listen to my own breathing… smoking is like a kind of pill, it can stop all the pain. 

Sometimes, when I with my friends. A friend who I normally hang out with or someone who I loved before. The different brands of cigarette, I have smoked before. All different flavours. Found some empty packs in my bags and drowses sometimes, just like someone who had already left, so close and so far away.

 After a few years, started to believe, love, because of the loneliness. At that moment.

 After a few years, started to believe, someone or something, it is all the memories.

 When you lost your passion in love, it is just like the black sea water.

 The one we loved before disappeared for good after the day we said goodbye.

 So it’s always about us, nothing to do with anybody else. Love or not love, all decide by us.

 The scar inside the body will be the illusion.

 We always know how to protect ourselves. Always trying to balance giving and receiving in a relationship. It is like people who are actuarially looking for the pure and true love, like the birds flying away from the city. Seems like we have not heard a bird singing happily in the city for so long.

 We are together, quiet like the seawater, keep moving forward.

 At that moment, we know we are together, the peaceful faces, the pain, the sadness, the tears, the dreams; they are there with us as well.

 2006, I feel the real pain.

 Smoking does not kill, but life does.