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| A throwback photo of my short hair and still-love for coffee |
A #FlashbackFriday post because this was the first spoken word piece I performed in my first open mic back in 2015. In that year of hugot being the main theme of selling out in spoken word, I chose to speak about my beloved coffee.🤣
Ironically, I remember this piece at a time that for 2018, I will stop drinking coffee--at least, stop drinking coffee when I don't need it. 😉
So here's "To Thee, Coffee" by your truly ❤☕
My dosage of you has become alarmingly high. Maybe not as precarious as before, but still…
As time for myself gets even more little as the workload and stress keep increasing, the dainty coffee cups have upgraded into huge ass mugs filled with your liquid magic.
I question the efficacy of your caffeine content because no matter how much I consume you, I don’t feel anymore the energizing effects you once give or like a person who’s finally free from tiredness.
But I still drink you up anyway because you remind me of everything familiar that I long for. The smell makes me smile and a mere drop on my tongue makes me go nostalgic.
In some ways, you are my little luxury. Maybe even borderline addiction. You are like cocaine mixed with grounded beans that take 5 years to grow. You are my Saturday night shot of tequila disguised as murky brown liquid in my morning mug.
I never take you the way you are. I like sugar and sweetness. I like cream on you or maybe whipped on me(ooh kinky). I like those fancy sounding flavors and their half-successful attempts. I like knowing there is more to you than just water scattered with your dull brown pixie dust.
A growing kid needs milk and sleep in order to grow taller. But I pour milk into you while I stay up until the wee hours of the morning. It’s kinda defeating the purpose, don’t you think?
Despite writing this love letter cum post of appreciation slash product of boredom, I never forget that somewhat hatred I had for you. Maybe I had too much of you and got too sick so I stopped downing you for a long time. My acidity can’t handle you at times. Occasional menstrual cramps become agonizing if I take you. Or probably I just prefer drinking tea or hot cocoa when I feel like it.
But I genuinely love you and would not do without you. Having you with me–actually, having you in me–is a joyous thing. As you run through my veins promising me to give me a sudden rush and high, in reality I’m just crashing again and again.
Even without you, my dearest coffee, at all.
