Friday, December 7, 2012

butterflies in my coffee

And then suddenly it's, like, BOOM -- coffee. Coffee and Mountain Dew, man. Good effing morning. I'm still a tired mother effer, but at least I am a buzzed mother effer. I will take buzzed over black any day. Black coffee, that is, not black the race. I sometimes wish I was black.

Everyone!!! I do not clearly remember writing the above paragraph! I fuzzily remember it, but not clearly. I remember once calling a past love of mine "Fuzz Face." It was endearing.

Speaking of love... No, let's not. I spoke too soon about it in my last post and I may have not been entirely honest. I was not honest with myself. There are probably a select few who make my stomach butterflies come alive (gross?). And it's awful! It is awful because, duh, who wants to get into a relationship? I will be bold right now and say that all relationships end up in sadness or jealousy or misunderstandings or uncomfortable comfort. Okay, maybe I stirred in some pessimism with my coffee-n-mountain-dew this morning... Or maybe I am just JADED. God. Have I really turned into one of those unbearable people? Perhaps.

There probably is not a "solution" to this "problem." And "why" do I "keep" "using" so "many" quotation "marks"? Because they are there to use. I don't need to always explain my choices.

I will take a cue from an episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show (that I may have never seen) and begin the process of learning to love myself in order to one day fully love another person selflessly. How do I go about this? I can start by taking myself out for a decent cup of coffee. This instant coffee shit is shit.

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