Early Signs
Submission
Way back when before anything started to go badly, I used to join the older kids behind the tennis courts for a smoke. Not drugs or anything, just good old cigs. And a huge crowd of 5th formers and so on gathered during lunch and the ground was covered with butts. The joke was the gay teacher who took delight in catching boys breaking the rules. The penalty for being caught was left off the end of the sentence.
The bell went and we all scampered back to class trying to hide the smell of smoke hot on our breath. I hated the taste of it, but something about it was enticing, it was breaking the rules and making authority seem impotent.
It was twenty five years later that I finally managed to stop doing it.
I thought it was free will that allowed me to smoke. It was not. It was a form of enslavement that only became apparent long after the nicotine hunger was satisfied in my body. The reasons to satisfy that hunger became convincing arguments that what my family was telling me was all wrong.
In the press: IOL : UK sounds the alarm over effects of smoking
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