Alcohol hurts the liver and coffee heals the liver?
Coffee is like, the morning after drink! Hahaha!
September 16, 2012
September 13, 2012
Fortitude
Oh, what those eyes have seen
those bright eyes in the dark shade
of tragedies, catastrophes, maladies
blasphemies, dastardly things
Oh, the tears those eyes have cried
of then and now, of here and late
from pains and hurt, from why and how
yet still the tears aren't enough
Oh, those eyes that see
all a miss and all abysmal
sees the better path
and one day shall rest at last
those bright eyes in the dark shade
of tragedies, catastrophes, maladies
blasphemies, dastardly things
Oh, the tears those eyes have cried
of then and now, of here and late
from pains and hurt, from why and how
yet still the tears aren't enough
Oh, those eyes that see
all a miss and all abysmal
sees the better path
and one day shall rest at last
September 11, 2012
Real Time
Oh love, hold still
you're moving too fast
still please be still
I just want to catch
a solid, still glimpse
to know this moment's real
I won't have you always
but for now I will
please love, be still
September 7, 2012
Well when you have to go...
...might as well have a cup of joe.
Yesterday morning I was riding the light rail on the way to school when perhaps the most inconvenient thing that could ever happen, happened. I needed to go to the bathroom, bad. And I mean, really bad. I was passing through the middle of downtown when it happened, almost out of nowhere, and argued with myself, thinking perhaps I could make it to school but "nope, I had to go now."
There's seriously a mental and physical struggle that goes on when I'm trying to hold it in as long as I can, especially when it's really bad. Probably the most effective argument I use on myself is to shout to myself inside my head:
Fortunately, one of my favorite coffee shops is located pretty much right at one of the upcoming light rail stops - the closest I could think of of where to release. I hopped off the train, and as inconspicuously as I can, walk-ran right to the men's room. I made it.
Naturally, I couldn't leave the store without buying something. So I got a V60 Hario pour-over of a new Latin American brew from Panama and... it was simply beautiful.
The coffee was a masterpiece. It was amazingly complex, filled with layers and layers of richness. It literally took me the whole cup of coffee to feel adequate at having described it, and I think that's where the beauty came from. Together as the whole, the coffee was superb, but even more, as a test to its complexity I literally had to focus on each separate part of the experience to get its full characterization. From first impression, to texture, to body, to aroma, to acidity/brightness, to elements of smoothness, to midpalate, to its many, many flavors on the retrohale, and finally, to its finish. This particular coffee had so much depth in every aspect that for every particular faucet of it required my full, undivided attention. It brought back memories, rejuvenated my vigor, and raised my hopes for the future. This coffee was a transcendental tasting experience.
And experiences like that can happen to anyone, really. So, let's have a cup of coffee sometime, yeah?
Yesterday morning I was riding the light rail on the way to school when perhaps the most inconvenient thing that could ever happen, happened. I needed to go to the bathroom, bad. And I mean, really bad. I was passing through the middle of downtown when it happened, almost out of nowhere, and argued with myself, thinking perhaps I could make it to school but "nope, I had to go now."
There's seriously a mental and physical struggle that goes on when I'm trying to hold it in as long as I can, especially when it's really bad. Probably the most effective argument I use on myself is to shout to myself inside my head:
"YOU ARE NOT AN ANIMAL AARON, YOU CAN HOLD IT IN, CONTROL YOURSELF, THIS IS WHAT SEPARATES US FROM ANIMALS, DON'T DARE LOOSEN UP. HOLD IT IN!"
Fortunately, one of my favorite coffee shops is located pretty much right at one of the upcoming light rail stops - the closest I could think of of where to release. I hopped off the train, and as inconspicuously as I can, walk-ran right to the men's room. I made it.
Naturally, I couldn't leave the store without buying something. So I got a V60 Hario pour-over of a new Latin American brew from Panama and... it was simply beautiful.
The coffee was a masterpiece. It was amazingly complex, filled with layers and layers of richness. It literally took me the whole cup of coffee to feel adequate at having described it, and I think that's where the beauty came from. Together as the whole, the coffee was superb, but even more, as a test to its complexity I literally had to focus on each separate part of the experience to get its full characterization. From first impression, to texture, to body, to aroma, to acidity/brightness, to elements of smoothness, to midpalate, to its many, many flavors on the retrohale, and finally, to its finish. This particular coffee had so much depth in every aspect that for every particular faucet of it required my full, undivided attention. It brought back memories, rejuvenated my vigor, and raised my hopes for the future. This coffee was a transcendental tasting experience.
And experiences like that can happen to anyone, really. So, let's have a cup of coffee sometime, yeah?
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