deepundergroundpoetry.com

Coffee & Music

Start the morning routine, now.


Woken up rudely by the alarm I start to get up and sit by the edge of the bed rubbing my face.
Six in the morning is an inhuman hour, anything before ten is just wrong. If you want to see the sun rise then you go do that but don't wake me up because I'll punch you in the throat. On with the routine now. I'll check if I have any unread messages (which I never do because people know better than to text while I'm trying to dream) and make a playlist for the day. This playlist is supposed to tell me how my day is going to be, good or bad I accept both of these songs.

I smell coffee, the best gateway drug in the world. It can wake you up and be so sweet to you if you treat it right. I love coffee and coffee loves me, coffee is the perfect lover because it will never leave you and will never break your heart. This happiness is short-lived though because now I have to put on clothes. Picking an outfit for the day can be one of the most joyful or grueling tasks depending on the hour, and right now the hour is grueling. I'll be fun and preppy Liz today? No. How about cool and grungy flannel? Nah. I know, how about hippy-dippy skirt so people think you're an outcast?
Perfection.


The only way I get through my day though is the music. Every lyric, every beat, every chord, everything about music is like being in another world...
Music is the real drug here.
Written by LizB
Published
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