Cafe

A story that revolves around

Cafes are for some the

Most romantic stories there

Are. For why must it be any other

Way I ask? Aren’t the

Wooden desks with groups

Of ladies talking about Virginia

Woolf, all one desires? Perhaps

A flirtatious exchange with

The waitress or rather simply

The solitude which can oddly

Be found. Even with the people

Around you, for isn’t that the

Reason Neil Gaiman finds it

Calming or Lex Fridman with

An approach of turning on

Brown noise to negate the outside

World. I for one am more

The brown noise kinda guy, to

Each their own right :) For

Me it’s almost like the

World stops and I’m at the

Center of it when I write or

Work with brown noise. Odd

As it maybe it definitely works

For sure. And for when I

Get stuck I simply pull

Myself out of the notepad and

Look around and almost instantly

Have the urge to carry on.

Not to think of myself as much

Of an existentialist but this

Definitely makes me feel like

Søren Kierkegaard, just that the

Cigarettes are replaced by a

Regular americano. As I take

Another sip, it baffles me how one

can add cream, milk, or sugar.

That is in my estimation is a crime

For they take away from the

Real taste of the coffee though

I do understand that I am

A romantic and do romanticize virtually

Everything. I don’t see how not to?

For our mere existence is romantic is

It not? As Osho puts it, “One

Cannot live off wheat alone

Roses are necessary too” Roses are

Real and God is an idea, Osho’s words

Not mine. If one isn’t able to

Enjoy the beauty that’s there in

The world, they cannot be saved. My hands

Are getting cold as I write this

Though I find that all to be

A part of the process, for I

Recently told an English major that

Words and not medicine will save people

She started laughing,

Perhaps I’ve made my point after all.