Dear Coffee, in Dear coffee

Your acid stench makes my stomach churn. Perhaps I should have some wine. Rose’ it is, then… Perfect! It’s fresh and crisp and sweet. I enjoy it, though it might not be the best choice considering I’ve had some spurts of “Lemon and Honey Tetrahydro Cannabinol spray.” Does it expire? I don’t know, I didn’t see an expiration date… still, it’d been in my backpack for at least 3 years.

M didn’t think it was a good idea. He said it didn’t have an expiration date because it wasn’t properly regulated. But who cares, he left. He’s gone to rehearsal, and for the first time since he began I don’t hate him for it.

Not that I hate, really. I do have strong, distasteful, feelings about people, but it can’t really be hatred because it never lasts. Can hatred be fleeting? If the answer is yes, then maybe I do hate. But it never sticks around.

Someone once asked me if I thought that love could be love if it lasted for only a day. I didn’t think so when he asked me, but I’ve since changed my mind. So perhaps, in that same vein, I’ve changed my mind about hatred.

Sorry coffee, tonight you are forsaken. Perhaps we’ll meet again tomorrow? I have tea in the morning, but I might tongue your taste tomorrow afternoon before I go bowling.

Did you know I used to hate bowling? Actually, I might still. I’m doing it to be social. Quit judging me, coffee. You’re just bitter.

Last updated September 11, 2017