My mornings are bound to be incomplete without a cup of cheap brewed coffee. Yes, it causes me to grossly palpitate minutes after I downed the content of a 200-ml styrene cup, but it’s far better than an entire morning of sleepy brain cells and distractingly unsightly yawns.
My professor once told me that one can get many benefits from drinking five cups or more of brewed, aside from keeping one awake while the world is snoring itself to death, the spree makes one, I already forget how he said it though I remember it was with wit, understand the real essence of living–which is staying awake to stay alive. He’s right.
I do not sleep because I have this to-be warranted suspicion that the world will cheat on me if I close my eyes, if I succumb to the temptation of sleep. I woke up each day paranoid. And the only way to cope with this paranoia is to burn my throat with a gush of dirty black caffeine.