Live Like A Suicide

I'll be direct with the news. That's my style.

Sadly, today my long-ailing coffeemaker committed suicide. I thought things were okay--at least, as good at they could be given circumstances--and that we could keep doing what we do best: deliver and receive caffeine...together. Obviously I was in serious denial. This is a fact I now fully realize and accept complete responsibility for. My therapist says that "human nature is a motherfucker." He's absolutely right.

Perhaps this passing is actually the most merciful outcome given my optimism-wrapped (or "optimistically warped") belief that these things could should last forever or, just until our next tomorrow. To the very end...best friends forever. I now realize how seriously I lacked coping skills to even understand what was happening. My coffeemaker was...dying and I was still pushing. Just pushing so hard...every day and telling anyone who asked, "What?! It's OK, it still works fine! What's a few grounds? You're just jealous that you don't have such a rad coffeemaker, haters!"

No blame or emotionally misdirected talk of selfishness or "what about me?" bullshit though. I get it. I do. Now. This is for the better. Better places for everyone involved. Cue Macy Gray because this is how life is; I now know that life is as brutal as it is beautiful. I've learned something. This is for the best!

And yet there was absolutely nothing else that I or anyone else could have done to make things better. Peak performance was an accepted remnant of history. I didn't push too hard...I just hope that I didn't push too hard. I didn't. I know I didn't. I mean, replacement parts have been discontinued in favor of new and ostensibly "improved" versions of the very same product. We all suffer at the throat-clenching hands of greed-driven capitalism, as Americans, each and every day of our putrid existences. It's fucking pathetic!

Maybe I knew today was going to be The Day, that day, and I unconsciously (or consciously) left my back turned when I could tell things didn't sound or feel exactly right. It is funny how one's mind can make the sound of a coffeemaker bleeding-out and onto the floor transpose to the beautiful chorus of a carafe filling appropriately. And happily. Maybe I am more relieved than I am despondent. Maybe.

Goodbye coffeemaker. You were my friend, you were family. Rest in peace. I will love you...forever. See you on the other side.