"It rolls, it turns, it flows. Inside my mouth, little bits slipping into my lungs. My body relaxes. They call it a buzz, but that's such a sad word. A buzz is more like a trip than a high. You forget who you are, you release all your pain, and it flows out of your mouth, hidden deep inside the soft smoke. It's like a bed, or maybe a bit of Heaven. When you inhale Heaven, it goes straight into your soul. Perfection, pure spirit. I wish it never ended. I wish I could taste you forever, but it is time. Listen to it sing before the melody fades away. Goodbye, Heaven."
-- from my journal 01/19/08
In this weather, all I want to do is warm up with a cigar.