January 6, 2004
Cure For Sleep
So I’m drinking this tea.
And it’s not. It’s not like I realized it so much, as it was happening, but then all of a sudden it’s just, my heart is racing. It’s a red tea that I’m drinking. I’ve never had a red tea; didn’t even know that such a thing existed, in fact. But not just a tea. It is a Red Tea Mudan which, according to the menu, is some sort of hand-crafted flower of tea made for the sultans of China or something. But that’s the way they get you. Sitting there, thinking about China and her sultanates, you don’t notice that the tea flower is still sitting, hidden, almost, in the bottom of your cup, continuing to seep caffeine into the water until it’s reached a sludge-like consistency and the weight becomes so great that your hands shake as you raise it to your mouth.
I think I’ve ingested now about ten or twenty times the Recommended Daily Lethal Dose of caffeine, and the tea is still sitting there. Like it’s mocking me. It has increased in size, blooming as flowers do. I think it’s feeding on
me. I’m not thinking too clearly though. Everything’s happening so quickly, and I almost spilled my tea. Can’t have that. I need to go for a walk.
Clear my head.
Or maybe a run.
I should go running.