I’m a recovering coca cola addict and I’ve gone cold turkey for over a month now.
But tonight I got the worst case of abstinence, I was sweating in unusual and uncomfortable places and I couldn’t sleep. The obnoxious snores of my roommate next door, echoing down the hallway like jumping toads farting in a bucket. Every passing car like a rocket ship entering hyperspace, the headlights on my bedroom wall like in a prison break. I wanted to claw the eyes out of my skull, punch my fist through the plaster wall and lick the condensation on my window.
I fantasized about putting a hand elbow deep into an ice bucket and fishing up a frosty coke bottle, pouring it into a tall glass with clinking ice cubes. I put my ear up to the glass, listening to the ice crackle and pop in the sizzling brown acid, watching the tiny bubbles burst and dance around the rim of the glass like spectral ghosts in the mist. I take a deep sip; my eyes roll back into my skull, the cola washing down my throat like a cool arctic wind, the caffeine burning my intestines like gut rot whiskey. In a euphoric haze I fall backwards into soft velvet blankets, rippling like waves, swallowing me whole.
The stores doesn’t open until two hours. I’m seriously fucked and on the brink of tears.
I walk into the bathroom with a glass in my hand. I run my finger under the water, it’s still lukewarm, I push the handle backwards, full metal jacket, pealing the coating of the porcelain, draining water from some distant glacier in the mountains. I drink the clear water, it’s refreshing but it doesn’t quench my thirst. I accidentally look up at myself in the mirror, my eyelids looks like pulsating gill slits. I step backwards in horror.
In the kitchen I find a coffee pot, my roommate must’ve left before he went to school. Something came over me. I poured myself a cup of lukewarm coffee, adding a dash of cream and five spoons of sugar to be on the safe side. I take a sip. It’s not as thick as I imagined, more watery, bringing back horrible memories of Bailey binges and puke stained shoes.
God, it’s disgusting… yet strangely attractive.
I’m on my third cup now.
