Coffee

I remember the first time I drank coffee I was repulsed and taken aback when my tongue made contact with the dooty-colored liquid. Staring at my reflection in the dark-brown liquid I noticed the aftertaste of the coffee and the raw bitterness it presented in my mouth. I rolled my tongue around the crevices to try to wash away the disgusting flavor. A few months later I would consume coffee almost three times a week. My junior year in college was dotted with morning Starbucks dates---I would order from the Starbucks next to Penn Station regular blends and churn out close to three dollars for each cup. This eventually watered down my expectations of coffee and broke my wallet. I admit that I turn to deli coffee nowadays in order to save that extra two bucks and to skip the horrendous lines at Starbucks and limit my awkward encounters with the homogenously-dressed baristas. Deli style coffee tend to be watered down and made of the cheapest, unknown blends out there. To my surprise I could have been drinking year-old-coffee that is expired and mixed with antiqued roaches. Sometimes I stare into my cup and ponder the ingredients in this brown mix. It looks putrid, stale, horrible---how could all these chemicals cause my heart to beat faster and to arrest my eyes from shutting during my all-nighters?

Coffee has been ultimately responsible for my increased heart palpitations and sudden sweats. Not to mention it's my friend when I have to study for big exams. It also keeps me awake when all I want to do is make love to my bed and not face the items in the day.

I used to patronize Starbucks because it embodied upward mobility in the sense that I can afford better, more authentic coffee. If there is some kind of authentic roast, Starbucks epitomized the most authentic of roasts because it pledges the best of flavor and a promising logo because its logo is known world-wide. I felt like a rich white man when I drank a Starbucks coffee, let alone hold it in my grip and admire its aroma wafting under my nose. The texture of the paper cup also increases its authenticity in terms of comparison to literary figures and authors and characters like Dan Humphrey from Gossip Girls. He consumes copious amounts of dark coffee. I attribute his thirst of coffee to his hunger of writing. So I started to drink dark coffee and feel Dan Humphreyly. It is insane how I believe that the Starbucks culture is one in which writers and hipsters work on their poems and stories. If I sit myself at Starbucks with a cup of their brew I might be able to churn out a few pages of my book.

Coffee has become an icon for hipster culture if you ask me. The idea of vintage stores and vintage roasts and vintage settings for baristas instills an imaginary space where a select few male and female baristas are masters at their craft of coffee-making and blending. They scurry around with a porcelain mug (to make it more homely and not just on-the-go New York style) and mix cremes and sugars, etc. Whatever baristas do contain this romaticized quality, as long as they are not dressed in some company garb or outfit (alienation and homogenization). If you work behind the counter and you perfect an ownership of your space, you should be allowed to carry on (in a smaller store of course!) without wearing a company's logo on your chest.

But I avow to not drink coffee in a while. I want to test Joe Asad's assertion that one can stay awake by willpower, not with the help of chemicals. I feel increasingly tired day after day and I think I may be oversleeping because in the past months I've only slept a max of 5 hours. Now I'm getting 8 to 9 hours of "full" sleep. However this makes me more drowsy and it depletes my body of its energy. I end up seeking naps in the day and putting aside my responsibilities. I'm feeling lethargic, bored, and increasingly detached from my duties in the day.