There is something incredibly sexy about smoking. Perhaps it is the riskiness associated with smoking.  I mean the fact that it can kill you I would imagine would qualify it as risky.  Or maybe it is the old image of the rugged rebel lighting up a cigarette and just looking dashing underneath a lamp post.  Or maybe its the way in which the smoke wisps around after being exhaled.  Almost the same way I would imagine words would as they escape your mouth and enter the ear of the one you love.  But in the end I just can not place my mind on why smoking does not creep me out.  I'm not saying that I would ever smoke, or that I think everyone should smoke. But there seems to be a sort of romantic image that surrounds a cigarette.  I feel as though I can never be a famous writer or amazing musician unless I smoke a cigarette.  Maybe there's something in those tightly wrapped packages of doom, that allow the creative juices to flow.  Something I may never be able to comprehend.  The perfect scene in my mind, would be two people, preferably one male and one female, in an empty coffee diner, one sipping a cup of the good ole Joe, the other sketchy out a quick picture on a pad of paper, maybe of the setting moon or the beauty in his mind, and a cloud of smoke surrounding their heads.  But then again I can't stand when people smoke while I eat, maybe I should think up a better image to store in my mind.