Black Coffee

She takes a sip of her, nowadays, black coffee. She recently learnt to drink what previously required a fragment of a drop of milk. It is almost like the milk was just meant to be there even if its random just-being-there-ness made no significant difference, as if its mere existence in the cup made things easier, less bitter. She usually searched for factors to tone things down, in a previous life, where most segments of the daily life were set on autopilot and life is put in a much too well-paced pattern of how to behave. In the world where the story goes: when unhappy- immediately work your way towards happiness again, where people tend to forget there is a source, a reason, a meaning for being unhappy. Instead of realizing- they cover up. They add so much milk to their lives they're numbing the bitterness, yet it's still there.

She now drinks her coffee black, not because she has to face, and consequently learn to love,the bitterness, but because she can't be bothered with adding stuff to her life that really makes no difference in the long run. She wants to see things for what they really are, and she will continue to create her reality, without the drop of milk.