cup 13, long night

The cafeteria cups are simply not large enough to hold all the expectations i have in my morning brew. I know this. I know this i know this i know this, i repeat to myself as i grab for the ceramic mug. And i look at the mug and it looks back at me, and we know that we will never be what the other one needs. Ok, so i'll go for seconds, or thirds, or twelfths, and in each sip i will get bits and pieces of my future day pumping through my veins and waking my nerves. But it never works as smoothly as i predict. Some of my day inevitably spill onto my pants, that is, only when i'm wearing pants i enjoy. if they are zach's pants, well coffee just dances around them, making sure that the irony only permeates into my belongings, not anybody elses. i have so much to say, all. the. mother. fucking. time. And now with the means to say it, in a 9-10 page paper, i'm at a blank. thirteenths. some sloshes onto the floor and into my bag. i over research, as a general statement. and while this is a positive attribute in most cases, it is rare that my research ever affects my decisions or writing. I have found that it is much easier to say what i mean than to mean what i say. And i think i mean that, i really do.