I read something funny on one of those Quitline stickers they put on cigarette packs. You know, the ones with needlessly graphic pictures, warning statements about how cigarettes harm you, and the hotline to call if you need help quitting smoking. The label that made me loudly expel air from my nostril was pasted on a pack of Camel mints that I'd purchased when I first tried to 'cut down' on my smoking. A gruesome, bloodshot eye stared out at me, and underneath it was the warning: "SMOKING CAUSES BLINDNESS." At that point, I was trying to 'cut down' to two sticks a day. I'd bought the pack after finishing three cigarettes earlier in the afternoon, and smoked four more after convincing myself that the three I'd smoked 'didn't count' because I was using them as motivators to get through a rough work day. SMOKING CAUSES BLINDNESS. Ha. The Big Guy Upstairs sure has a weird sense of humor. Want to know another funny thing about smoking? It's how non-smokers try to persuade you to quit by saying, "Eh. Quit lah. Very bad for your health, you know?" I'd like to say this on behalf of all the smokers out there in the world: WE KNOW. We know how bad it is for you. We know smoking causes heart disease. Strokes. Every cancer you can possibly name. The smokers who don't drop dead outright from those lovely conditions can look forward to something called Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease, which is the medical term for your lungs degrading to the point where you have to be hooked up to a respirator for the rest of your life in order to breathe. Yet most of us don't quit. Because all those conditions I've listed above belong to people in photographs, or aunts and uncles who have long-since passed away. In short, they haven't happened to us, yet. We still have time. The possibility of passing away, gasping and wheezing for air because my lungs are simply unable to function, was the furthest thing from my mind on my third, smoke-free day this year. I was suffering from something affectionately nicknamed 'quitter's flu'. Basically, when you stop smoking for a bit, the air cleaning systems in your lungs start to work again, and like a person returning home only to find the entire house in a mess because the dog had gotten loose again, begins cleaning in overdrive. I was running a fever, coughing violently enough for complete strangers to start giving me a wide berth on the street, and my nose must have signed up for a Standard Chartered marathon, because it was running like hell. And yet all I could think about those past three days was how good a cigarette would taste right now. Ever since I'd stubbed out my last stick on New Year's Day, it occurred to me how, without me knowing it, cigarettes had become a part of my life over the past few years. I simply couldn't believe there was once a time where I stepped out of a bus, a shopping mall, or my own home, and simply did nothing else except walk to my destination. Seriously. What was I supposed to do with my hands while walking if they weren't busy trying to light a cigarette? Staying at home became less appealing, as I had no idea how I was supposed to spend hours at a stretch without going out to the staircase landing to smoke. And, really, do people actually wait for their movies to start after buying tickets? Don't people just go outside to enjoy their coffin nails? Oh God, what was I supposed to do now before and after every meal, just... other things? Really? And that was how, paradoxically, I wrestled against the urge to head down to 7-11 and say: "Camel Menthol. The black and green one. Number 54. Thanks." It was like having an ex you'd been on good terms with go psycho on you only after you break up with them. This little indulgence that I had taken up years ago as a way to get along better with my friends in the army had now become a constant, yammering voice in my head saying, over and over: "Time for a smoke, time for a smoke, time for a smoke, timeforasmoketimeforasmoketimeforasmoke..." I suppose I could end this article by talking about how my life has changed for the better after quitting. I could say that I am so much happier now, that I realized that I was miserable smoking my life away one stick at a time, or my personal favourite: I've quit for good and I'll never look back! But the simple fact of the matter is, that aside from a slight increase in my bank account at the end of every month, nothing much has changed. In fact, as I write this, some part of me is considering 'rewarding myself' after finishing this article by smoking a cigarette. It's ironic. Every now and then, I wonder if I could go back to 'social smoking', but the sad truth of the matter is that I know I can't do that. There are people who can smoke socially, and I’m just not one of them. It’s all or nothing for me. To paraphrase Craig Ferguson, my favourite talk-show-host: I don't have a smoking problem. I have a thinking problem. I have very little doubt that the little nagging urge to light up will cross my mind at random points for the rest of my life. Maybe it willh be after watching a Wong Kar Wai film, with those long, sensuous close-ups of Tony Leung pensively posing with a lit cigarette in his hand making me nostalgic. Maybe something bad will happen to me and I will think: what the hell. I shouldn't punish myself. Just one cigarette - I'll stop after I feel better. I have, with a single, poor choice made years ago, come to associate comfort with a self-destructive habit, and I will pay the price for that poor choice for the rest of my life. I can't say that everyone who quits smoking will have the same experiences I did - perhaps for some of you quitting was easy. Good for you, really. But to the ones reading this, who like me, still go to sleep counting cigarette brands in their heads instead of sheep, keep the good fight going. I'll see you on the other side. The air's pretty nice around here.

2016 is the year that keeps on giving, isn’t it? And when I say giving, I mean taking repeated dumps on our collective faces. On Tuesday morning, Carrie Fisher, best known for her iconic role as Princess and General Leia Organa in four Star Wars movies, died following a heart attack. She was 60. Today, we mourn the loss of a woman many of us came to know through her iconic work, and honour all the ways her actions helped to make the world a little bit better.

Princess, General, All-Round Badass

When honouring the legacy of Carrie Fisher, is there any other way to begin than with Star Wars? It is the reason we know of her, after all. First released in 1977, Star Wars wowed moviegoers everywhere and forever changed the landscape of the film industry. Who can forget Fisher’s first appearance in that movie, as a hologram message to Obi-Wan, and Luke’s fitting response? “Who is she? She’s beautiful!” She is indeed. In a time when actresses were usually relegated to roles as damsels and love interests, Carrie Fisher’s Leia provided audiences with a refreshingly out-of-the-box take on the female protagonist. A capable leader and fighter for the Rebellion, Leia gave us a compelling female character in a film trilogy that was essentially a big-budget teenage boy's fantasy. By portraying a strong woman in power, Fisher added positively to the growing feminist movement, and shone as an inspiration to girls everywhere. Leia may have been a fictional character, but her impact on the landscape of film and gender issues was very real. And don’t lie, you squealed at least a little bit when you saw Carrie Fisher in 2015’s The Force Awakens. To know that we will never again see General Leia Organa portrayed by Carrie Fisher is a depressing thought for every Star Wars fan. Following the onscreen death of her husband Han Solo, the inevitable departure of our favourite general-princess in the ongoing saga will undoubtedly be an emotional moment for many in the theatre, especially with the added weight of the actress’s real-world passing.

Fighting Mental Illness and substance abuse

A side of Carrie Fisher many of us didn’t know about was her struggle with bipolar disorder and drug use. While those struggles themselves don’t in themselves make her special or worthy of notice, what does is the way she chose to approach them. Throughout her career and life as a public figure, Fisher had been completely open about her issues. She admitted openly to abusing cocaine and prescription drugs during the filming of Empire Strikes Back, saying in 2001, “Drugs made me feel normal.” She even starred in a solo play Wishful Drinking, chronicling her battle with addiction. Writing for The Guardian in a column titled advice from the dark side, Fisher provided candid and honest advice to readers suffering from mental illness, writing in a compassionate and self-deprecating fashion that alluded to her literary skill as an author of multiple novels. In a society where many suffer in silence from mental illness due to the stigma attached to it, the positive impact of a public figure like Fisher coming out as bipolar without shame cannot be overstated. Mental illnesses are caused by chemical imbalances in the brain, and that's it. These people aren't broken or weak. Their disorders don't indicate problems with their character, but with their health. As with any sickness, sufferers of bipolar disorder, depression, or any other psychological disorder need to realize that it's okay to seek help and treatment. With her actions, Fisher embodies the courage and determination it takes to accept and tackle mental illness in a culture determined to discriminate. With her unabashed attitude towards mental illness, Fisher championed acceptance and brought us a little closer to a world where victims of mental health issues can seek help without fear of judgment or persecution. For that, she deserves our respect. Like Leia, Carrie Fisher was strong, bold, and unapologetic. She will be missed. <a href=" Image Credit