Panchito‘s Diary

I had a roommate, Dennis, that made coffee like 6 times a day and offered me and Maja (our other lovely roommate) to sit with him and drink together. That was very comforting. The warmth of the cup between our hands while we share our actual struggles and bond a little bit every time we overdose on caffein.

When I was living with them I was in a very deep hole of depression. So like every year, I got to unconsciously decide which drug was to become my new addiction, was it gonna be endorphins by sex? or adrenaline by alcohol? nicotine? cannabis? nope. only bland americano with milk.

I had this whole year where I was working 2 jobs, studying, having 2 relationships and doing everything but therapy, well not fully committed. So my motor was running in the old German labeled juice of cheap coffee.

After that I moved out and noticed that without Dennis and his cheap drip coffee machine, I will have headaches that will ruin my mood.

I was on withdrawal.

Before moving out of the city, my work colleagues gifted me some good coffee beans, some oat milk and a manual coffee grinder. So I decided to use my first marimekko cup and all the utensils to make out of coffee drinking a ritual and not a daily manner.

Nowadays I only drink the bitter bean tea when im in a coffee shop or when I have people sleep over and they need/want their dose in the morning. I also pack some tobacco and cigarettes for those kind of situations even tho I dont smoke.

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I had many fixations over my many years of life, and the vulnerability that comes when u have depression is a dangerous mixture. Ive been addicted to all the drugs that I mentioned in this entry, now I struggle but steadily try to have a healthy consume relationship with food, because after I worked to get out of a sex and dependancy addiction, I got slowly into over eating. Im trying to be vegan. It’s hard, and I’ve been vegan before without using the label but now im very focused on consume criticism, so I asked myself what do I want to consume and why.

My depression still lingers there, it feels like trying to take off clothing and finding another layer under the one that u just took out (my neurospicy and claustrophobic people get it). I actually never liked coffee, I liked Dennis and Maja, I liked being with sweet people and gossip around. I yearned for connexion not for lukewarm dark roasted coffee in a cringy Harry Potter mug (fight JK Rowling pls).

Coffee to wake u up, to make u productive, to lubricate the working machine that the state awaited from me and my roommates. Enough coffee to drown ur burnout. Grind those coffee beans grown on private plantations that exploit millions of people around the world, only to be exploited in your own factory and be ground too.

I offer you an alternative, what if use the hot coffee and trow it to the face of the ones taking our lives away and stealing our times and rights to build a better world for the few on cost of the many? But also as powerful will be the action of not drinking coffee at all. Dont be productive, dont hustle around, just drink some camomile infusion. Relax. Every second that we give ourselves is a second less that is available to be taken away from us.

No more depresso for me nor u pls.