Author unknown (№ 255931)

To sit on the roof of some high building, think about something... distant, inhaling the acrid smoke cigarettes. The smoke will fill your lungs and breathing becomes difficult. You exhale it and feel relief. It calms and gives to understand that you're killing your body, your life, but not the soul. The soul is calm, she is tired. She wants to go. To hide from everyone. But it kills not only the smoke kills those who are close. Those who have become precious to you. They will finish you.