espresso

People like to compare life to things. Turning it into an unnecessary simile or whatever. And I’m going to do the same thing! I know, I know, who can possibly top Eric Roths’s “life is like a box of chocolates?” Or perhaps it was Winston Groom. I never read the book, but I know you’ve read the movie so I’ve name-dropped both potential originators of that line while displaying how lazy of a researcher I am. In my defense, I did open up two whole windows to properly google both names. Without further adieu, here it is. Life is like an espresso shot. Wonderful innit?! I used the British “isn’t it? to convey how intellectual I feel right now, because we all associate the British with anything remotely intellectual. We’ve all faked the accents. (points at the americans) Now for the explanation! I was having a glass of chilled wine, which, by the way, I don’t know how anyone could have their wine. It’s disgusting and it takes away from the full flavor of it. I don’t care if it is from the budget section of the grocery store. And I thought to myself, “isn’t life like a glass of wine?” That sounded too generic to me. A. because of the whole half glass full bit, and B. because it was too Hemingway-an. So Boom! Espresso shot! It’s quick, low cal, full of eccentric caffeine, and you snide on those who pronounce your life, eXpresso. Here’s the kicker; the bitter aftertaste. The nasty aftertaste represents the Yang in life. The black. No one ever appreciates the black and I’m not an advocate or ambassador of black, or a masochist or anything of the sort, but doesn’t that make you appreciate the white more? The shot itself, quick, indulgent, and leaves you feeling “lifted,” the beauty. Then followed by a dark lingering taste, a consequence of the rampaging thirst, the real art of the espresso shot. Lives are a collection of beauty and art and if you’re lucky, beautiful art. Of course, I haven’t even commented about the brevity of taking the shot, which corresponds to our very lives. We move too fast to enjoy the minute layers, and get stuck with a bitter afterlife.

Advertisements

3 Comments

Filed under Uncategorized

3 responses to “espresso

  1. did you write this? It’s wonderful, cakes.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s