fire and smoke

Breathing fire and exhaling smoke, its starts out small every couple of months I pick it up. I remember the smell. Reminisant for me. Heading back to my childhood, where my mind smells home. Smoke, old leather, and sawdust. Along with old pick-up truck and apple ochards all childhood smells. I was told smell is the strongest key to remembering. I may lose grip here but I bring myself back with a smell. I grew up with cats too, they have a smell....my dog when I first got him, smelt lovely. All smells, I use them to pull me back , so while I stand here and inhale I am now grounded. I remember who I am what I've been through and how I got here. To this moment, picking it up. A habit I mean, of course, I'm told it kills and all I can think is so does every second, humans are created to die, not that I want to but just to prove I won't tomorrow. Me and the camel were cool. Like that commercial from the 50's (JOE COOL). I stood there in the field with my dog and started a pebble rolling. I lit up, took a drag, and held (for a good measure) and now all I can say is that I did it not to be cool, oh no, noone will know, but moreso to ground me. I need a 'me-indulgence' , and so I figure what the hell. I won't be a chain but I could be a packer, every 2-3 days. Save the smell and all I wash thoroughly to diffuse it but I kind of want a bit of it to linger, its keeps my bearings.
I'm a smoker. Not hard core, but 2 packs a week will suffice.