Letter From The Diet Coke Left On YourBedside Table For A Week:
by Naiya PK
Hi darling,
You bought me quite a while ago and I don’t know if you noticed this, but I’ve been sitting here slowly going flat for days. My beautiful bubbles stopped rising, and my chill is long gone. I’m lukewarm and a disgrace to my family! Every time you reach over and grab me, I pray to god that you’ll finish me off and recycle my bottle….but nope! You EDGE me. Three sips a day? Like, baby, what even are we at this point? It’s like you’re telling me that I don’t taste good enough to finish, and I would like to say: whose fault is that? You’re the one who let me get all gross and weird. If you had any respect for me, you’d have put me in the goddamn fridge!
Yesterday, a week after you brought me home, I reached my limit. It was late at night (way too late to be drinking caffeine, by the way), and you took one big gulp after your nighttime cigarette…then you GRIMACED, and pulled a NEW Diet Coke out of your bag. You put your new, fresh, shiny CANNED Diet Coke right next to my bottle. You know how much I hate those canned, fascist bitches. When they became popular, they stole everything from me and my bottled family. I’m not even jealous, but really, it's insolent to flaunt your metallic new side hoe! Just throw me away before bringing her here…I don’t know how you could need BOTH of us at the same time. She glared at me all night, and then whispered “plastic is bad for the environment,” and threatened to push me off the edge of the table. Like okay?? Prejudiced hoe. It’s actually so fucked up that you put her next to me.
So as you can see, it’s come to the point where you’ve been too disrespectful, and I’ve decided to speak my truth. If you don’t finish me off by tomorrow, I will leach BPAs and toxins into the remaining liquid and you WILL die. Who knows what those BPAs will do to you...I’ve heard stories of dried up breast milk, eyes growing inside of belly buttons, and butt cheeks falling off– and you don’t even have much butt to begin with! And then of course, there’s the obvious and inevitable death from the BPAs entering your heart. It’ll be a slow, ugly, painful death… count your days bitch! HAHAHA!
And also, don't even THINK about putting my bottle in the trash when you’re done with me. Have some basic respect and put me in the recycling.
Bye forever you Lana Del Rey wannabe ass bitch.
-bottle of Diet Coke
