Starkish's Blog

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Month: February, 2011

Coffee

Life can be annotated in more than a quatillion words. More so of my experience in purchasing a can of coffee.

I am not a coffee drinker. As much as I aspire to be one, I cannot tolerate the taste and the after effect is like a 6.7 earthquake in my little head. Yet my fascination opposes my bodys’ physical reaction towards this cup of strange. I hover over the menu when I see words like cappuccino, macchiato, americano and the likes. Contemplating, toying with the idea of ordering a steaming cup with pretty little foamy things with a slap of biscotti on the side. But no, I order a milkshake instead and my soul shrivels to the corners of my dark insides.

I’ve always felt inferior too coffee drinkers. I would sit there, one hand hugging my glass of sad, the other tracing little stars and abbreviations on condensation,  sipping from the  pink bendy straw and picking out rainbow sprinkles. I sit up and flip my hair to what I think will level my sophistication to that of the coffee drinkers around me.

So you can imagine the bursts of impetuousness when I popped the tab of vanilla latte (okay, so its not hardcore or anything but still) open.

Now, with this can in my hand and the heels that I wear and this poise that I hold. I am above you.

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Drive Home

It was a long drive home. Her windows rolled down. The air was cold. Cars were scarce. She drove with one hand. And she spoke to God. She told God something she has never told a living soul, her free hand on her beating chest. And she felt a complicated sort of relief. And she continued driving, with a lighter load in her heart.