Sitting Without Coffee

in poetry •  last year

coffee

A weekend without caffeine. The experience is more significant than just the simple non-consumption of a tasty beverage, it is a rejection of society. Particularly here in mother England, London. The experience revolves around consumption, particularly of drugs.

It is curious that we don’t even know the effects of caffeine as a collective. Most will respond with an eloquent, “it wakes you up?”

This is of course not the reality perceived by all, but has always been my niche, my society that I have selected for myself. There is no reason for this, although possibly I once perceived it as the natural habit of the stylish and intellectual. I of course have since learned my false identification.
So for whatever reason, this is one of my only connections to society around me.

The writing prompt was that I sit here at breakfast, and I feel an irrational need for a coffee. Then I see it… I see that the coffee is no more irrational than paying for the breakfast, nor being here at all. Possibly one could argue it is an experience, but that is a rationalisation. A drug fueled habit, and the kicker is the coffee that keeps me from asking myself these questions.

Now I see why the great are not constant consumers of caffeine; caffeine brings you into line with the norm. It is to be the norm, the greats are not the norm, and they have no desire to conform to it. It is a need for a reconfiguration, I feel negative, pained, by not being part of what I have always called “my culture.”

It is time to be apart from the norm, and to relish in the roller coaster that comes with it.

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