They call me coffee cuz I grind so fine
They call me coffee I keep you up past 2 am
They call me coffee because I’m really bitter and most people don’t like me without changing some aspect of what I am
Sometimes I wish I could capture moments between my hands. Pluck them from the blowing breeze of time and put them in a jar on my bedside table. They could buzz around between the glass walls and keep me company when I'm alone. But being captured isn’t in their nature. No, moments are more like clouds, always floating steadily across the sky in whichever way they're headed. You can take a picture of them or write a poem about them, but if you try to hold them between your hands they will only seep through your fingers and drift away. Still, they are awfully nice to look at, aren't they?
I probably shouldn’t have gotten drunk on a Wednesday. Now I’m tired and hungover and I haven’t accomplished anything I planned today.
I did watch Stage Beauty, though, which was an awesome exploration of gender performativity and had really solid acting. So.