My happy return to coffee rose as fast as it fell to a very dark place. I can't drink coffee without these bloody tremors. Lying here and I can hear my heart which I thought was the music; the bedsheets are pumping as fast as my distressed heart. Sounds like the bass to very hardcore music, now I'm imagining those men who drive harleys using hammers to beat drums made of metal and bones. Oh screw my body for ruining this for me. I bid thee adieu, hazelnut latte. :(
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