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I wanted to make enough coffee to get pleasantly buzzy, thought processes sped up and nerves just a little on edge, that perfect state for writing. Instead, I'm dizzy and my stomach is fluttery and strange and my limbs feel weak. This isn't good. I have to keep reminding myself that three cups of coffee isn't anywhere near toxic; I feel like I've poisoned myself.

That's a feeling that will go perfectly into the scene I'm writing, if I can only channel it into the work and not be kept from working by it instead. Urrrgggh.

Date: 2001-10-26 12:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] vorona.livejournal.com
I used to drink coffee.

Mostly, I just washed down my speed
with it, but yeah, I drank coffee by
itself occasionally. It was "there."

When I drank "too much," I'd always see
these little retro cartoons. You know
the ones, with a big band beat BOOM BOOM
BOOM, boom boom ba-doom-ba, BOOM BOOM BOOM
in the background. Bouncy, rubbery, threatening
and creepy-looking, but really kind of fun.

At one time, a friend and I estimated we
drank some horrible amount of coffee... it
couldn't have been... but I think we counted
27 cups or something. Gaaa. We saw vines
growing out of the walls, Marilyn Monroe
skateboarding past palm trees on the Ave,
talking magazine covers, and more...

I can't drink the stuff anymore, it hurts
my stomach.

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