Coffee and Hard Truths (In that Order)

Earlier in the month I talked about how my doctor recommended cutting down on my coffee intake and increasing non-caffeinated fluids into order to regain my scattered concentration. I did it. I cut down to 20-30 oz a day, and increased my other fluids to close to a half gallon.

To my surprise, it worked. Of course this could be that I was in a minor manic cycle and I’ve come out of it. Or it could be that my coffee intake increased my anxiety, triggering the manic cycle. I honestly don’t know.

I still find the irony in reducing coffee drinking to improve concentration. I suppose that eventually there are diminishing returns to the point where it does the opposite. I still drink in the morning, because that initial boost helps me write. But the rest of the day I avoid it.

But I’m tired. I don’t have the physical energy that I did. And I miss it.

coffee 25 to life

Getting older means that you lose the things (and people) that you love. I gave up soda. I cut down on carbs. I reduced alcohol to nearly nothing. And I find myself finding people that I once found interesting and fun one-dimensional and boring.

I think of the episode of South Park where Stan started seeing everything as shit. It’s hitting me like that.

Maybe I’m losing faith in Humanity. Not so much their morality. I always knew that people were neither good nor evil, but a mixture of both (myself included). We are at once informed and ignorant, and we fetishize both (and I can think of nothing more toxic than the latter). But I used to think that everyone was different, special, and we all had a gift to share with the world. I don’t see that anymore. Nothing we do really matters unless we look at it through a microscopic scale. I am not special. I have a skill that tens of thousands have as well, and can do better than me. Watchmage is very good. Song of Simon is very good. The myriad short stories that magazines have bought from me are mostly good. But there are better ones out there. I need to stop pretending that I’m something special. That’s ignorance. I don’t want to be ignorant, even if it means accepting hard truths. The truth doesn’t change whether you believe it or not.

Hmmm…Nihilism is the end product of coffee withdrawal. Huzzah.

doge in space card redux


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