Listen to my story.

You do it, you like it, you stop. You find out later that you have a VERY BIG URGE to do it again. You smoke again. Then you like it soooo much you just want to smoke even more and keep feeling this "pleasure". You make friends. Those friends hang with you because you look cool. They only like you for that.

You age. Your eyes blister. Your education diminished. Your relationships destroyed.


What do you have to relieve yourself?

A petty little stick with deadly poison inside. You cry. You cry out on the fact that you're soooo bored. Your friends have left you. What happened? Got no one to hang out with? That WoW made them go away. You smoked.

You're already 30. No job. OH WAIT, YOU WORK AT McRONALD'S! That's how you planned your life out? Fast food? Your "friends" your real ones. The ones you had that didn't smoke.

One is the president.
One is a basketball star.
One has a wildlife show, fufilling his dreams of frolicking with animals.

What do YOU do? You're successful right? Nope. You work at fast food.
You're know as "that McRonalds guy". You're famous.

Your friends see you there. They see you there, standing in the corner, smoking. Your jaw drops, sighting them, dropping the cigarrette in the deep frier. Those poor fries. Those poor customers. 10 people died from those fries. Happy now? Ya killed 'em.

You wither as your age slips away. You are only 56 and already dying. You look back at what could have been. Your tearducts are sore and dried out from overusage. You take one last breath.....

And start dreaming.

Are those dreams happy?


You decide.



Totally random story I picked up from an earlier post.