The most coffee I ever drank in one sitting was seven 12oz cups. I remember feeling a pulse in my toes. The coffee was good. It was specialty brew from a local roaster. While he traveled the globe looking for the perfect roast, I sat in his shop; and a grenade grew in my chest, feeding blood to the carrier as it absorbed the free WiFi.
I wondered if caffeine pills had a similar effect. I imagine it would be like this. It was rejuvenating; my bones chattered. I soaked in the realization like a hot tub. This was my little corner of the universe, one that I occupied with energetic doubt and existential compassion.
I had an epiphany in that sitting. It goes like this:
I am but an organic machine, experimenting with different chemical lubricants. Some grease up my heart, others slosh around my stomach. My biological membrane breaks down the molecular code like a supercomputer. The good, the bad, and the sometimes both are all processed and out comes a (sometimes) hazardous bi-product. And that will keep happening until I am dead and in the dirt. Then someone will come along and plant a coffea plant on me. And a future organic machine will chew on coffee pills until they suffer from the same fate. It is but a vicious, caffeinated circle.