Coffee Rant

I had to give up the one thing, the first thing I looked forward to each morning. A cup of coffee. It seems my over-stimulated, urban-abused body just won't tolerate the cup of joe anymore. Well I thought, maybe now things will slow down, go at a more recognizably human pace. Not even close. Without coffee, I feel like I'm in a time warp as seconds drag like hours and I stumble around in an opiate state. The old television commercial that said, "Coffee, it picks you up and calms you down." like hell. I've always known the effects of coffee, one cup leads to two, leads to a coveted pot that you won't share with anyone. The addictive affection for roasted beans and home grinding and french steeping. But it's so much more than that. Everyone silently claiming allegiance to the coffee club by aimlessly stumbling through their morning commutes while mallet-clutching a paper Venti. Young office hipsters slouching a anonymously in the back of meeting rooms acting like totally "in" while they barely keep a grasp on their personalized mugs. Yeah, coffee, the syrup that fills the cracks of virtual reality to make it all seem real in geophysical reality. The stealth speedball. The ubiquitous heroin. None of this comes as any surprise to me, I've cold turkey-ed the caffeine tar three times, so I figure, once more into the maw of oblivion is no problem, right? It's not so much the actual abstinence, but the timing. It's like being in the high-speed-car-chase-of-life and suddenly just opening the door and getting out. Folger's doesn't come with skid leathers. It's not a matter of red pill or blue pill, that's just Hollywood psychosis. You just make a choice between brown liquid or clear liquid. It’s all a matter of perspective. I thought maybe I'd lose my razor edge, that I wouldn't have that anime katana like mental prowess. Then I imagined how brutal and Caligula-like trying to cleave a winter squash with a dull butter knife is, and my caffeine deprived ego was marginally eased. Coffee doesn't make you see goddesses or machine elves, you're moving too fast, way out front, standing on the accelerator. Funny car, formula drag racing is like nursing home bingo compared to a java jag. "But it's all for the best" the tea totaling suffragettes sing-song and we all know what happened to prohibition. Remember the ad campaign against drugs, with the egg, "this is your brain on drugs" hook line? The one for coffee would be a nice juicy bug splat on the windshield of a Bonneville Flats speed record vehicle, THAT's yer freaking brain on caffeine dude. 

It's ok though, I'll just do a Miss America beauty pageant white-gloved hand wave as life now blurs by me, the rat race is more over-rated hype than pay-off anyway. Yeah, you guessed it, CHEESE is the next thing I'll have to give up. 

Corporeal

     Worldly events are bending and warping like a "Rubber Man" sideshow contortionist. Even an unbiased observer with 20/20 vision can't manage to focus the abstracting images into anything recognizable. A matter of mass hallucination. Hysterical, manic, machinations. That's what reality actually looks like. The only way to make it behave as something different is through aggressive application of mass hypnosis. The use of somnambulistic phrases and shiny objects to pendulum-swing before rose tinted eyes. Contact lens blinders superimposed upon self-hobbled victims. An easy enough feat exercised upon victims that want to be entertained, not held to the grail-light of truth. Looking behind the curtain wasn't part of their front row ticket price, and yet, jumping off cliffs is free of charge. 

Our planet still hangs suspended in a revolving universe, stable as a pizza box hiding a molten mozzarella core. Oceans of soda and forests of garlic breadsticks compose the flat-earth geography. Self-imposed celebrities perpetually chase themselves ‘round ninety-degree corners. All is as should be in the abyss of Dis-reality Complication. 

One way to simplify life is to stop looking under pillows every night expecting gifted currency from fictitious entities acting out enamel fetishes. 

"Now what?" is a question more people should ask themselves in lieu of sentimental, self-indulgent ramblings about what they used to do, or who they used to be, or worse, bragging about how they haven't changed. Gets old fast. The often overlooked secret is- it's never too late to start something new, even if it's only switching your morning breakfast beverage from frozen orange juice concentrate to artificial vegetable flavored puree. That one minute change could domino-tilt the entire universe on a different course. 

Observe and absorb. Rhetoric is meaningless. Your arsenal of senses are your best conduits for learning. See, hear, smell, taste, feel, then THINK. Search for answers to questions. ASK questions you’ve never thought of before. Questions are the catalyst for growth. 

It's folly trying to “teach”. The best hope, is to plant a seed that will germinate into action at the most opportune time. It's not about rote, but about comprehension that begets epiphany.

Physical world, physical reality.... gravity plays a big part. Imagination isn't affected by gravity. Freedom from that ankle-yank pull is what sets imagination to FLY....Quantum Theory is pedestrian compared to imagination. It's bogged down by numbers and formulas, never ending equations.... chalk scratchings on dull slate, a poor substitute for the velvet sheen behind the cosmos.... 

Time is a rudimentary construct of man to aid him in keeping events organized, categorized and hypothesized. Time is merely a measurement, and not a very accurate one. There is no such thing as time fueling thought or imagination. But there is pulse. Fast, anticipated pulse, slow bemused pulse, a brush swish on a snare drum, a pluck of a bass string, the flutter of a heart in love. Pulse drives everything. Incremented time only cheapens the phenomenon of moment. Each heartbeat is an infinite moment. 

Distraction is a terminal path. Pillar of salt stuff. Mind to ash. But moments filled with imagination, discourage  distraction-rot. 

The night sky used to be filled with rainbows and strings of pulsing color spooling across the naked universe.