Let’s face it, quitting smoking is like trying to wrestle a slippery snake—blindfolded, in a thunderstorm, while your brain is whispering, “Just one more.” I’ve tried going cold turkey. I’ve tried tapering off. I’ve tried prayers, promises, and patches. Now I’m trying something in between: switching to lights.
Yes, I’ve been smoking light cigarettes lately. And while they might sound like the skinny jeans of the tobacco world, they do something sneaky—microscopic holes in the filters allow more air in and deliver a “lighter” dose of chemicals, including nicotine. Science says it’s not exactly healthier, but it feels lighter. That counts for something, right?
Now, I’m not about to pretend this is a solution. It's a tainted effort—like putting diet soda in your whiskey. But surprisingly, it's helping. I’m not getting the same buzz or satisfaction from each cigarette, so I’ve been finding other ways to fill the void. Mostly staying busy on the computer. Writing, designing, clicking through rabbit holes on the internet—anything that keeps my fingers away from my lighter.
Another trick I’ve picked up? Watching the clock. I make sure I space my smokes further and further apart. It’s like interval training for addiction—if Olympic athletes can time their workouts, maybe I can time my weaknesses. Every extra minute I wait between cigarettes feels like a small victory, a little rebellion against the cravings.
So, do lights help? Not in the way they’re marketed. They won’t save your lungs, and they’re not a golden ticket out of addiction. But for now, they’re helping me transition—helping me be more mindful, smoke less, and take baby steps toward quitting.
It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.
And in this journal, progress is what matters.
Stay tuned.
—Dan and Bonkers
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