from timmy's turds to ground out perfection

on this arsehole's love of coffee

Alo dear reader.

How do you like your addictions?

Are they quick and intense or long and lingering?

Some I know have smoked cigarettes for almost forty years.

I wasn’t very good at smoking. It always made me feel bad. The addiction didn’t take.

When I was a child though, I introduced myself into the magic world of caffeine.

This is an addiction that’s been ongoing for at least forty years.

Oh sure, I’ve missed a day or two, but when I do my physical dependence on caffeine always reminds me with the joys of withdrawal.

And no, no cash is involved in this process.

Unless of course you get paid to show up with cold sweats, pounding headaches and a bad case of the shakes.

I love my addiction to coffee. I’m powerless without it. My life would lack meaning.

And?

And I’m sure the more judgemental amongst you might think that I should find a way to be bigger than the substances that make up my life.

And if you are one of these people?

There is a store, just down the street from me. They sell dicks by the bag.

Go eat a full bag, choke

And die while fucking yourself with dick shaped turds made up from the dicks you just digested.

I have no intention of ever giving up coffee. Not for lent nor self mastery.

Caffeine is more powerful than I am and I like it that way.

I worship at the alter of my coffee maker.

There are times when I’ve got to be quick and dirty. On those days, drive through ‘hortons has to do. It’s shit. But its caffeinated, coffee flavoured turds in a cup and it gets the job done.

And sometimes? I don’t even have time for the drive through. This is when the freeze dried astronaut inspired instant coffee is such a relief.

Chuck the stuff in the cup, run the tap, put the cup under the tap. Add sugar and oat milk and boom. I’m on the road without even boiling a kettle.

But then there are the days.

Oh the days.

You know?

Those days when I can pull out the hand powered coffee grinder.

I fill it with just enough beans.

And after a few minutes, I have my dose for the stovetop Eyetallian job that makes my heart soar.

The entire ritual from been grinding to consumption takes no less than forty minutes.

But oh, how glorious every one of those moments are.

Perfection takes processes and processes take time.

It’s glorious when the process is defined and straight forward - like making a cup of coffee.

But when the act of creation involves living a life on your terms, or creating something new?

The steps are unknown and the timing is off.

It seems there are times when our creative process is hung up at continual stops for a cup of turds served always fresh at ‘hortons.

Then?

But then there are the times when we can slow down. Take a measured approach to living and grind out some perfection.

But when you’re addicted to air and sleep the way I am?

Both the cup of turds and the long drawn out perfection do the same job.

The rest is just a story in your head.