OH NO…

Dear Muthafudgin Diary
This is really bad,
I used to be one of those people who boasted about not getting addicted to stuff but…
That has changed, apparently
I’m addicted to Coffee. Yes; how do I know?
It isn’t an itch, I’m not telling people I’ll suck them off for some beans, no
As the caffeine wears off at night, I find myself floating in a murky pool of loathing, there’s a dark sense of self, I am acutely aware of the slow pace of my existence and its blaring disgrace. And I can’t write for jack.
I wish I were dead.
My first thought was “you better not have any coffee tomorrow,”
But I needed to sort this apocalypse now and figured “see if it’s the coffee, have some now.”
And sure enough, half a cup of half a teaspoon of some good ol’ roasted beans and I’m typing away with a lit mind and a brighter disposition
It doesn’t sound all that bad, really. It’s not cocaine or meth or death
I’ve never liked depending on things though…

So I’m hooked on coffee, and for some reason out of all of these years it has only recently started to be profoundly psychoactive on my brain, what a way to usher in the new year!

P.S. To think just thirty minutes ago I was struggling to write a sentence and here I am having written quite a bit!

Cheerio! Coffeenoid out

La nuit du café noir.

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To Delicate Flower; As you Were Once Known

©2015 Asperganoid
©2015 Asperganoid

The Sun was a crushed pill on a cracked blue glass table streaked in white strokes of misfortune.

Fingertips tingled nostalgic.

Francelle washed up on the bed like a corpse drenched in oceanic sweat, eyes floating in a black sea of uncertainty, chaos.

She stepped over the sprawled body of Lilith

Half-conscious and drowsy and sat on a broken toilet seat.

Releasing chemical waste.