Ok, so when I was going to college we did this excersize where the teacher handed us an M&M, and we had to eat it and then describe the experience as vividly as possible..

I'm gonna do it now with a can of coke, because I can, and I'm bored, and it was interesting.
Remember, this is spur of the moment, and that's the way it's supposed to be.
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Brendan's description of drinking a coke.

I grabbed this coke from the fridge. It's cold, because.. it was in the fridge, so it won't be bad. Now, opening this coke, I feel the slight sting one sometimes feels pulling up the tab, if it's bent down too far.. and take into consideration how much I've grown, both physically, and mentally. See, a child couldn't open a can like this, a toddler wouldn't even know where to begin. But I can, I've had experience.. This experience hasn't really done me any good that I can see, other than having learned how to open a can, but what do I know.. it could help somewhere else. Only time will tell.

And then, after the quiet crack of the metal seperating and opening up the top of the can, the small bubbles burst out, like a fountain. If you look close enough you can see them, little droplets, shooting out of the top about an inch and then falling back down into the can.. as if their escape attempt had been for nothing. They have been defeated, and accept it so easily. There are always a few, in each coke, that escape and land on your hand, or the table the can is on.. they are the victors, the great escape artists. Giving their all to fall to the ground, or to another surface.. Is it really so terrible, living in a can of coke?

The first drink of a can of coke is the best.. The taste shoots into your mouth, and then it's gone.. like a pulse, you have to keep drinking to keep the taste alive. Another sip, the taste is revived for a moment, the bubbles foam up in your mouth, and then are consumed completely.. their lives fulfilled.

Drinking more and more from this can.. almost empty now. This can is like almost everything around.. I've had relationships like this can. Someone will get me to open up to them, and when they're done with me, I'm discarded, like trash.. Nobody even thinks about what will happen to me after they're done. Just like this can. It's life is short, and mediocre. But maybe that's just my point of view, maybe this can would be happy, were it alive. Maybe it would know that it only had one purpose, and would live to serve that purpose with an avid sense of compassion for the cause.

The can's sweat rubs off onto my hand each time I pick it up to take a swig.. making a ring on the table. And, just as easily as it was to open this can, I've finished it. It's just a shell now. Hardly worth the metal used to create it.

But, writing this, I have slightly glorified the situation.. this can of coke has probably never been recognized like this before, and may never again.