tavie.com

Oh god, I need to detox. Oh god. Check me into Saint Juan Valdez's Rehab Clinic. Oh god. Jitterjitterjitterjitterjitter. I type so fast I can't see my fingers anymore but my eyes are like cherry jawbreakers, unsucked-upon; dry, red. Arrrrr.

Drunk with the access to free coffee, drunk with the possibility of nonstop flow from cup to gullet to nerves, I have OD'd. Like Orson Welles OD'd.

Next week, next week, after the final on Monday, I have two weeks with no school. Two weeks free of school. Maybe, maybe I can detox. Maybe... maybe I can detox. Mom got some nice half-caff from Trader Joe's. Maybe... I'll fall asleep at my desk, but at least I won't have school...

Jitterjitterjitterjitter. That Puerto Rican coffee is muthafuckin stee-rong.

Nextweeknextweekmaybemaybemaybemaybemaybemaybe

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Why are you in Tavie's head? 4:26 PM | shower me with attention