As outlined in my last post, I’m dedicating myself to start using the story starts, and cute lines I’ve written in my tiny notebook, and forming them into something instead of letting them sit stagnant.
Here is today’s starter: How could anyone like coffee so hot it burns the tongue? Char the flesh that tastes so it can function no longer, is that how people enjoy kissing? Numb it down so they can no longer feel?
Here’s what I wrote based on that: How could anyone like coffee so hot it burns the tongue? Char the flesh that tastes so it can function no longer, leave the drinker to fill in the blanks of it’s taste instead. The imagination is so much more powerful than truth. And perhaps that’s how they live their lives as well. Numb everything down to it’s barest function, so that they might fill in the blanks on their own. Why should anyone experience life when others can do it for them and report back to them on how it is? Heaven forbid you should taste that coffee, let yourself love someone, let your heart feel for those around you.
And maybe to that they’d say, they have the courage to brave that coffee with sensitive lips poised on the rim. They dare to have a sip of that delight, despite the harm that may come to them. Maybe they would say, we are the brave ones, the ones to dare to seek that which is dangerous or unsure, BECAUSE we want to experience all the world in it’s truest form. We will risk burns for the love of the thrill of it, the heat as it steals down our throats and warms up from the inside out. We feel it all.
And that’s when I realize…that maybe I’m afraid of that hot coffee. That I’m the one who’s afraid of being burnt…