Coffee Log, Day 228

Hi.

Coffee: Cafe Pajaro Extra Dark, Trader Joe’s Brand

I didn’t take a shower until 4:00pm but when I did I lay down and let the water tell me about its day.

I didn’t work today; the banks are closed; it’s Columbus Day. A perfect celebration for modern America: wealthy white man who gets lost, screws up, loses half his fortune then makes it back on the backs of brown-skinned bystanders. Reminds me of a certain president.

But personally, it was a good day. I slept well. I dreamt of reconciliation; dreams are as close as you get sometimes. I spent the morning working on projects, the afternoon drinking ice water and submitting short fiction. For dinner, I went with a roommate to Remedy Diner in Raleigh. They serve the Impossible Burger, she wanted me to try it on account of my meatless-ness. I tried it. It was good. Had the tang like something had died for me, but nothing did, nothing with a head full of thoughts anyway, and so it was guiltless. Outside, NC State students paraded to this or that bar like they’d never know another summer.

Currently Reading: Autumn, Ali Smith; Cherry, Nico Walker

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“In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It’s important to combine the two in just the right amount.” – Haruki Murakami, After Dark

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Coffee Log, Day 153

Hi.

Coffee: India Extra Bold Roast, Cafe Crema

A few Japanese 7-yr-olds told me you only put soy sauce on rice when you’re trying to get the dogs to eat it. I liked that: maybe I’m a dog.

Since I stopped eating animals I’ve wondered more about being ‘human.’ Unlike the wealthy white kids who wear Salvation Army and dumpster dive because they know they’ll never depend on anything, I see the difference between us and animals clearly. We’ve got a spark, they’ve got something simpler. No wildcat would choose not to eat me. The beautiful, structured violence of a predator.

The voice is exhausting. I think maybe that’s being human: a constant, boring fatigue. Not the tired you get swinging muscles, but the exhaustion of constant thought. We buy our free choice by chaining our mind up to moral dilemma. Humanity is dull like paint drying. Stick with it, though, and you build the best blue house.

But today I’ll take a break. Woof.

Currently Reading: LaRose, Louise Erdrich

Support Relief for Family Suffering at the BorderRAICES DONATION CAMPAIGN

“Outside of a dog, a book is man’s best friend. Inside of a dog it’s too dark to read.” – Groucho Marx

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Coffee Log, Day 84

Hi.

Coffee: Organic Honduran, Trader Joe’s brand; I did the unthinkable: I watered it down. Less scoops in the grinder. I felt like a monster. The taste was better – this blend gets sour when you make it strong – but I’ve walked all day hungover by the betrayal.

Two weeks meatless and I feel good about it. I couldn’t reckon taking more conscious life. On a friend’s suggestion, I stir-fried jackfruit in barbecue sauce. It was good. It tasted like bamboo. I was happy with the meal.

Currently Reading:
Americanah, by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

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Large, naked, raw carrots are acceptable as food only to those who live in hutches eagerly awaiting Easter.” – Fran Lebowitz

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Coffee Log, Day 61

Hi.

Coffee: Organic Sumatra Blend, Trader Joe’s Brand

The March 2018 drawing winner is up! Find it under Writing Samples, or here: Cows, or Thriving Defiantly. The winner is a big fan of bovines and requested a poem about them. Read and enjoy!

Speaking of cows, I’ve been trying to go vegetarian. It’s been a long process and I’m not very good at it. Just last week I sat down at a Chinese restaurant on my lunch break and the owner pointed out a menu of lunch specials, all of them including meat. She was brisk and acclimated to the South despite a Chinese accent that gave away her heritage. Her name was Theresa and she said “You can add a ‘Mother’ to that.” I felt obliged to eat the chicken.

So much culture happens around slicing up little sweet animals into faceless chunks. I grew up in a State that loves it’s barbecue and connected with strangers over the poor-kept secrete that Eastern Carolina has the best. All the while pigs screamed as I bit them and I never had to see the blood.

I think that’s what bothers me: if you brought me a cow on a leash tomorrow I’d be more liable to pet it than slit its throat. How can I justify eating the damn things if I can’t kill them?

Currently Reading:
The Pardoner’s Tale, by John Wain

Fund the Coffee Log 🙂 – https://ko-fi.com/livesaywriting  

“Look, PETA! If God hadn’t wanted us to eat animals, he wouldn’t have made them so darn tasty!”  – Stephen Colbert

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