Ever since I started smoking a few months ago I have been obsessed with my lungs.

“The lung is a sack of globules. Each globule is divided into alveoli which lead directly to the bronchi. One globule imitates the entire lung of a frog. The smooth internal surface is tapestried with a network of blood capillaries. In this way, if the lung were spread out it would cover 200 square yards. You have read right.” — Opium, Jean Cocteau

“How lovely and how doomed this connection of everyone with lungs.” — Juliana Spahr


~ by Not Alice on March 30, 2007.

2 Responses to “lungs”

  1. Your obsession with lungs may be an indication that you should STOP smoking. Really. There are no redeeming qualities to the habit and besides, the fastest way to ruin a pretty girl is to put a cigarette in her mouth…

  2. I concur. Bodies are important. I smoked intermittently throughout my extended undergraduate career, and now that I’ve (nearly) reached the ripe old age of thirty, I wish to hell I hadn’t. Nothing like having a tumor (benign, but a tumor nonetheless) removed from your fragile form to make you wish you’d taken better care of the old thing. The body, that is. Not the tumor.

    I’ve found that sometimes just going outside and breathing has the same lung-conscious effect I used to crave. And wearing a knit cap and a boat neck sweater can make one feel jaunty and French even without a Gauloise in hand.

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