Love, Poetry, & Coffee

~ 11 ~

Why does my body feel like it's been rolling around on a pile of stickers? There's a numerous part of my body feels like it's been stick to something smooth. It feels like it's a large patch of smoothness, but if I focus clearly on my touch senses, there's some feels so rough, like a rock on my body. Groggily opening my eyes just to see if I've been placed into the wilderness where I'm sleeping on leaves and rocks, but when I glance around my surroundings, I'm just sleeping on the paper land called my couch.

How the hell did I slept in my couch and not on my bed? I glance down at my clothes to see if there's any liquid spilling that indicated I've been drinking, but there ain't any liquid stains on my shirt. The only reason of me ending up sleeping on the couch I could think of is that I'm drunk when I came home, but my stainless shirt already proven that false. Then what's the reason why I've fallen asleep on the couch?

Slowly pushing my whole body to sit upright, I couldn't remember what had happened yesterday. A sudden pang of pain in my stomach immediately gives me the memory of yesterday. Instinctively rubbing a hand on my stomach, I wonder how long will this feeling be gone. Perhaps if I ignore it long enough, I'll either be numb to it or it will magically disappear. If it that painful feeling gets worse, then that would be a problem.

Would coffee remove this painful feeling? Of course, I would think coffee is the solution to everything, but perhaps it'll help me numb the pain down. Firstly, before I run down the block toward the Café, I must take a quick shower since I didn't shower yesterday. Just a quick one. It'll be so quick that my thoughts wouldn't even have time to think about some things. That's now quick I need to be.

I rush my still-sleepy body towards the bathroom, removing the paper that's stuck on my skin on the way. Never thought that paper will stick to the skin with enough pressure and duration. I find myself pondering on the reason of the paper sticking to the skin. Shrugging my clothes off, that's another thing I need to search in the World Wide Web since it's been like a day without my phone, and it's been torturous.

I would try to play some music while I do my hygiene routine, but I feel it would be better not to risk having another mental breakdown in the shower, since that's also the reason why I forgot to bring my belongings with me. Never again, I mutter my breath while my mind is in autopilot during my morning hygiene. I find myself staring on the mirror as I brush my teeth, and I look like I'm wondering something. How many other people out there whose brains are in autopilot whenever they do something in their daily routine? I can't be the only person whose brain decided to go autopilot during a routine, there must be a small patch of people who do such things to.

After my morning hygiene routine, I waltz my way to my bedroom to grab some monochrome clothes-as always-and also try to check how's my phone's battery holding out. Wouldn't be a bad day if I walk into my bedroom and spot that my phone wasn't plugged in overnight? I would have lost my sanity at that point, but to my relief, once I light up the screen, the 100% gives my soul an ounce of happiness. On the back of my mind, there's a voice that tells me to check my email, chuckling to that outrageous thought since there's no way a person or anyone would want to reach out to me.

Unplugging my phone from its charger, I'm still chuckling at the idea of someone emailing me. There's a little population of people who knows I exist, and the majority of those people doesn't care about me. Walking back to the living room, I find myself staring deeply at the book on the coffee table in front of the couch-it really looks out of place with all these paper around it. I'm contemplating whether to bring it with me and read it while I sip my morning coffee, or just leave it here. It wouldn't hurt to bring something to read while drinking hot coffee. It's like a dream come true at that point.

Snatching the book off the coffee table, since I can't find a counter-argument on my own claim, I decided to bring it and satisfy that literature-lover and a caffeine-addict little dream-to read an interesting book while sipping coffee in a fine morning.