Friday, July 15, 2005

Coffee - the New York drug

What is it? What is my problem? Is it the weather? The humidity? You can slice it with a knife - feels like I'm living in a pressure cooker. The air is like hot slime, dog breath, a thick nasty fog of heavy filth. Each minute that I waited at the subway elevated platform this morning was like waiting in a sauna - unbearable. Strange how we all hate our jobs, but yet we would trample any old lady in our way to get there on time... and after 5pm - everyone is in a panic to get down the stairs of the subway in Grand Central and get on that train - as if there was a fire or as if it they were in a million dollar race. Or do I just need a cup of coffee? Am I out of place? Lately I cannot seem to sleep - no matter what I do. It may very well be that I have deep psychological desires that remain unexplored, and virtually ignored - and this may be why I can never sleep. It's as if my brain wakes up to live it's true life at around 7pm. During the working hours of 8am to 5pm - I'm brain dead and it's no wonder. I feel like a circle jammed into a square hole. This is my life. On the 12th floor of a large highrise building in Midtown Manhattan. I'm a "temp"... it's 10:45am on a Friday... and I could fall asleep right now.


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