Grab a cup of Coffee...

 

 Grab a cup of coffee... stare deep into it, and remember. The old drums will start pounding; follow this, the ancients will pull you in, let go of it. The resistance will come, but let go of it. It is much like meditation, keep your mind in your cup and stare into the abyss. There is a dark brown stain on the rim of my cup, and a blood red stain on my hands. Look closely and you will see it too, the ink stains and smudging from my horrible left handed writing. I used to write love letters with this hand, and poetry that made the world a beautiful place. But you never come back from where I have been… so grab a cup of coffee and stare deep into it, you will not be leaving here until you find it; until it finds you. Stare into the damn cup…   

  I am not going to waste your time, the past in its detail is not that important, the myths of those tale they are far more important. But you are a self-respecting individual, it is never occurred to you that what I am talking about is possible. Some men shrug it all off, even the theists are weary. It is as if society has shrugged these old stories off. So I have no choice for you, we will sit here until it happens, or we will walk off into the dessert at the back here, until we are both so delirious and about to keel over and die, with a bottle of rum and some corn, calling on some demonic spirit from Haiti to show you.  

  There is bitter silt at the bottom of my cup now and it reminds me of my first journey with green tea. It used to be quite disgusting to me, especially the cheap stuff. I do not know if it was the chemicals or whether it was my ability to make tea. It did not really matter, because it was an existential lesson to me, one where every sip of this god awful tea was a testament to how fucked up the world is… If you give me enough time I will ruin you. Ignorance is bliss they say, but what you find at the bottom of that cold cup of salty coffee. That will rob you of all your bliss, and I did not put that there. You are hiding from something, and it has you by the hair. You are running, and it has found you everywhere. You are hiding and it is exposing your every position. You are pretending, and everyone is playing along…  

  Allow the memories to boil up to the surface, see the patterns in these thoughts, cry deeply if you must. But this you must see for yourself, that the monsters under your old bed have not yet grown up, they are still the children that you once was, pieces of you held hostage in the past, stupid little vows that are the crux of your fears. I do not care what the priests, the teachers, your lovers, family and friends have to say about it. Nor do I care about your beliefs and values concerning the matter. Stare into the damn cup until they come, all the demons you try keep inside of you with your table manners, and your efforts of being nice to people and all the other shit that you’ve stuck away in storage.  

  Nothing is worse than getting away with it, nothing is worse than believing it. Your ignorance will only take you so far, and for some it is straight off the side of a bridge. I seriously could not give a fuck about where you are right now, because we have a way to go before this even begins to make sense. Your life has fallen apart, mate. All of your hopes and dreams squandered away due to your own inability to be humble. We can go anywhere on the face of this planet, I will accompany you to the ends of the earth. But the place you have to go into now is deep into the depths of that cup, its murky depths, and that amazing aroma. Fall deeply into it allowing all the waves of being to wash over you.  

  There may be some Zen stuff to this, but there is a darker side to sitting on that damn pillow for long enough, sitting becomes fighting and fighting becomes life. When this war consumes you there is no going back. Today it will consume you, since this is medicine you need. Do not shit me bro, I can see the track marks all over you, your arms look like shit and you are just about giving in. Take a good look at my arms, and my teeth. There has been no rubber around my arms, nor a lolly in my mouth. None of those crack whores have given me the shit that half of your so-called mates have gotten. You have been in the rooms, and you have heard their stupid stories, riddled with denial and excuses. Yeah, you’ve probably spewed the same shit out of your mouth, and look at where it has gotten you. Nothing is worse than getting away with it, sit down, shut up. Stare into that cup. Stare into that damn cup…