On Coming To Terms With Your Mortality at a Film Festival
You cannot remember waiting so long for a cup of joe in your working memory. You can recall first beginning to drink coffee around 16 years old, after years of gateway caffeine consumption. All those green tea lattes and passion-berry lemonades your mom bought for you after soccer practice were suddenly not enough to fuel your 18-hour school days. You woke up at 5:45am to pick up your romantic partner (and even then, you called each other “partners,” because — let’s be honest — no one likes labels), finished school around 2, and drove straight over to your best friend’s house for some video games. After nearly falling asleep on the toilet, you were invited to dinner at your partner’s home; you went, things got awkward with the parents, you fooled around in a car, and you went home. It was nearly 11pm. Your parents asked why you were going to bed so early.