I hate the way crack smells. To be honest with you, it smells like shit. Just remembering it now makes me want to run to my bathroom and vomit. What's even worse than the way crack smells when you're smoking it, when you're lighting up the darkness one flicker at a time, is the way the YOU smell like shit too. Even worse still, is the way you treat your family -- the one that most everybody knows about, not the one that you made on the other side of town -- the way you treat them like shit. The shitty things you'd do. Like beat the shit ouf of your woman only to then rape her repeatedly and profess it to be love. Or how you beat the shit out of a young man in the cloak of darkness with a 2x4 until he begged for his life under those grandfather oak trees. You beat him for no earthly reason at all. Or maybe you beat him because he saw you that night doing shitty things to his sister and threatened to tell.

I hate the way crack smells.They say that one's sense of smell is the most sensitive and that it is more closely linked to one's memory even moreso than one's sense of sight. The olfactory sense can be so powerful that it will conjur up a picutre in your head so vivid that you'd swear you could touch it. I often have those experiences. For instance, if I smell spearmint gum, immediately I get a picture of my beloved grandmother wading through her purse to find a piece for me. Her purse, her clothes all smelled like the sweet treat. I LOVE the smell of spearmint gum! I'm sad sometimes that that picture isn't alive anymore. Sad that the smell of my grandmother's spearmint gum was no match for the profuse smells I would endure after her passing.
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