I was chatting with a dear friend
one afternoon about anything mundane then coffee was brought up, which made me
remember that I made one for myself. I
reached for it to take a sip but it has gone cold and told her which she immediately
quipped, ‘What’s new? Your coffee always gets cold before you could even finish
it' and such gibe led me to asking myself, 'Why?’
Why? In the surface, to me it is
just simply forgetting. I easily get swayed by anything that appeals to my
interest. Like right now, as I am penning down these fragments of regard on
coffee getting cold, a cup of coffee is actually in front of me, still and
patiently waiting for my attention and thirst for the delight that's inside it.
But words are coming forth and I am feeling the need to jot them down,
religiously scribbling in between lines of page in the notepad, else they are
gone forever.
Yes, my coffee often or should I
say always gone cold before I could have its last drop. Wherever I was.
Whenever it was. Whoever I was with. Or, this may be me: instinctively holding the cup of coffee, on to
take a sip but hold off for an interesting thought was brought up, then came
the unending blab, then again holds the cup for a sip yet there again the birth
of another topic and babble the thoughts away and on repeat until the coffee is
forgotten and until it's time to leave.
I have not actually given a thought
about my coffee often getting cold but what my friend said has sparked an interest
in me to discern and look at it more. Coffee gets me elated, from the first
hold of the hot cup, to the first sip, until the cup bottom settles on the
table then commence the forgetting.
Such discernment brought me years
back in my college days. I was actually told that I have a Ningas-Cogon attitude
by one of my professors. It's an idiom in my native tongue. Ningas is flame and
cogon is a rough, long, thin and dry grass that easily catches fire but burns
out quickly. So yes, I was full of enthusiasm and passion initially but wither
the soonest unexpectedly. I hate Math since time immemorial but for whatever
reason, I found Probability and Statistics interesting then. At the first phase
of the semester, I excelled (ehem! haughtiness aside) which got my professor’s
attention but my interest died down even before the semester ended. Hmm, the
comparison makes sense.
Honestly, I easily get bored. My passion
for like anything dies down easily. Maybe should we just call it a craving
since it’s when it gets satisfied even just a taste of whatever it is, I am done.
But with regards to my coffee often getting cold, could there be any psychological
reason behind it or, maybe am just making a fuss on this petty matter?
