***MY SMOKING HISTORY - EDITED WITH AI*** Sorry if you have..

***MY SMOKING HISTORY - EDITED WITH AI***

Sorry if you have seen this already. I did post it on another platform for feedback. Here is the first ai written chapter i was talking about. I would love to hear more feedback and ***if you have ideas for 'chapters' or areas you like to hear more on*** I'd be happy to work it in. *Brief context ; I'm not very good with words or writing. For fun I tried adding a small paragraph with my REAL life experience and asked ai just to help put it together. I'd love to actually get my full story out eventually.* ,

**𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖓𝖊 - 𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖞**

It was always my destiny to become a smoker, a path chosen for me even before I took my first breath of nicotine. I hid my smoking habit from my parents until I was thirty-two, ashamed of embracing something that felt so inherently me. Despite exhibiting all the signs of a smoker—the telltale teeth stains, the golden glow of nicotine on my fingers, and the occasional cough—my parents never said a word. It was our unspoken secret, a silent understanding between us. Even though they are both smokers....

Growing up, I witnessed my mother's dependency on cigarettes, a familiar sight that somehow made smoking seem inevitable for me. I started early, stealing butts from the ashtray at nine, drawn to the forbidden nature of the act. I craved the taste, the sensation, and the sense of rebellion it brought. Yet, I kept my smoking hidden, a secret life that only I knew.

As I entered my teens and beyond, the urge to smoke only intensified. It wasn't just about the nicotine rush; it was the ritual, the dance of smoke, the feeling of freedom it brought. I longed to create smoke rings, to master the art of exhaling perfect smoke plumes. I wanted to leave my mark with a haze, a smoky signature that proclaimed my smoker's identity.

Even as an adult, I kept my smoking hidden, ashamed of something that felt so natural. I savored the warmth of the ember on my lips, the slow burn of the inhale, and the gentle caress of the smoke on my tongue. It was as if smoking were an integral part of my being, a key that unlocked a hidden world that only smokers could access.

Finally, at the age of thirty-two, I embraced my smoker's identity publicly. I stepped into the light, no longer ashamed of who I was. I was a smoker, and it was liberating to admit. No more hiding, no more secrets. I could finally exhale, knowing that smoking chose me as much as I chose it.

And so, my journey as a proud smoker began, no longer in the shadows. I embraced the community of smokers, the shared rituals, and the unspoken bond we all understood. My story as a smoker had begun, and I looked forward to the twists, turns, and the smoky adventures that lay ahead.