Your local depressed, caffeine addict that writes too much.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Text
Caffeine is the most widely consumed psychoactive drug. So like most teenagers, I have a raging caffeine addiction. Although, I’m not one for the whole fancy eight dollar drink from starbucks type deal; I prefer my coffee black. Never any cream or sugar and always hot. In fact so hot, that it burns my mouth and my throat until it becomes painful. And I don’t stop after just one cup, I’ll drink an entire pot of scolding coffee. However, don’t get my caffeine addiction mixed up with a coffee addiction. While yes, I will drink pot after pot of coffee like eventually it will reveal the deep, hidden meaning of life; I will also down a bang or reign or rockstar without hesitation.
“Oh but all the chemicals in energy drinks aren’t good for you.”
Good sir, I sincerely do not give a flying fuck about what you say. I still have a caffeine addiction because when I started high school I learned: sleep is an irrelevant idea when you have more important things to do. For example, bring stressed about some assignment that won’t matter in a week. Or crying, lots of crying. Maybe being severely depressed ranks higher than sleep. So to compensate for a lack of sleep, one must consume copius amountss of caffeine. Or maybe that’s just me.
#coffee#my writing#writers#writers on tumblr#written#thoughts#coffiecup#late#late night#caffine#caffeelovers#caffe#caffeine#coffee addict#addict#addiction#addictive
0 notes
Text
A Night With A Bottle Of Whiskey
The sky is shades of beautiful purples and blues, with diamonds sparkling throughout. The moon is being caressed by the dancing clouds, slowly waltzing across the night’s beautifully dark abyss. The breeze carries the scents of neighbors’ fires and the sound of nearby laughter from a group of friends gathered to tell stories about their dreams and plans, hoping that one day those dreams and plans will happen.
My couch has slowly become one of my most reliable friends. The surface looks tattered and rough, but to the touch it feels soft. The kind of soft you only get after something has been used for a long time, after flipping the couch cushion multiple times to hide exposed stains from spilled drinks and forgotten lovers.
My hand is wrapped around the neck of the bottle loosely, just enough so it doesn’t slip from my grasp. My body falls onto the couch without any resistance and sinks into the soft, weathered cushions. It feels like a familiar hug from an old friend, warm and soft.
I lift the bottle to my lips, letting the amber liquid into my mouth. The sweet hits me first coating my mouth with cinnamon then as I swallow it feels like flames. My cheeks immediately become hot and start to turn bright red.
The fire in my throat starts to subside so I take another drink from the glass bottle only to repeat the cycle of sweet cinnamon to the burning flames. It starts to burn less and less as time goes on. There is no longer a raging fire struggling to break free in my throat, but only the hot embers with no flames dancing on top of them. It has gone from a burn to soothing warmth.
I continue to sip on the sweet and hot cinnamon whiskey, the never ending cycle of sweet then hot continuing on for what seems like only a short amount of time. My body feels warm and cozy, the buzz sets in as it feels as if my body is starting to vibrate. I reach over to turn on my favorite playlist and start to sway my head with the beat. Somehow it sounds better than before, the bass is more explosive and the lyrics are in a whirlwind of symphonic beauty. Everything feels more like a euphoria than a reality, each thing more beautiful around me from my once weathered, stained couch to my dull walls surrounding me.
I lose track of just how many sips I’ve taken, but the bottle feels significantly lighter than it did a few hours ago. The room feels like it’s spinning, but my eyes start to feel heavy. I try to stand up but fall back onto the old couch. My body suddenly feels sluggish and everything becomes a haze. The walls become blurry and the music sounds as if it is in slow motion. The beautiful euphoria ends. Suddenly, my eyes become unbearably heavy and begin to shut, then everything goes black.
#alcohol#alcoholism#drug addict#addict#drug#addiction#writers#my writing#writers on tumblr#poetsandwriters#writing#writeaway#written#writer#write#wordgasm#deep#deepstuff
0 notes
Quote
I think there’s a certain solitude that comes with having finished a chapter of your life. You leave certain people behind; whether they were once considered your lover or friend. Parts of you get left behind with those people, whether they were good or bad parts. Parts you utterly adored or parts that you envied. Each chapter you start as someone new and end it as someone new. Eventually you come to learn to accept that, but do you miss who you were a chapter ago?
EMM
#my writing#writing#writers#writers on tumblr#poetsandwriters#write#writer#poetry#poets on tumblr#poetsofig#poet#poets#deep#deepstuff#mistakes#popular#depression#anxitey
0 notes
Text
Things High School Taught Me
1. People will be assholes.
2. Showing your work won’t get you far in the real world.
3. Sleep isn’t vital for existing. In fact, it should be the least of your worries.
4. The movies lie. You won’t end up being the cute nerdy person, dating a hot jock.
5. The teachers don’t really care, they’re just paid to be there.
6. Teenagers smoke, do drugs, and drink, because school makes them numb and they just want to feel something.
7. You’ll become addicted to at least one thing in that span of four hellish years.
8. Caffeine is your best friend.
9. Eventually you learn how to stop feeling.
10. The kids that doodle in their notes are the most depressed ones.
#high school#highschool#people#my writing#writing#writer#senior#caffeine#coffee#truth#sad thoughts#sad#sadtruth#depression#liar
0 notes
Text
“Her bright blue eyes,
Stood out against the stained walls,
Sleeves hiding scars,
That were still bright pink,
And puffy,
Her wet cheeks glistening from the little light let into the room,
With each tear rolling down her cheek,
She tried to let go of all the memories that ruined her”
- EMM
#writers#my writing#fiction#quotes#love#writers on tumblr#books and libraries#poetsandwriters#poetry#poets on tumblr#poetsofig#blue#blue eyes#scars
1 note
·
View note