I'm sitting down, empty plate before me in a coffee shop so impassioned, aching to write and yet I find that I cannot divine why. The siren's song remains a mystery to me. She will not claim her work and lift my hand to guide my across the bow into the water.
It's a gust of apathy that whistles past and dulls it all. Makes me want to leave with a pull just as strong, but at this exact moment I'm forcing myself to sit here and write anyway.
This shop is nothing short of lovely. This shoe box full of earth tones and a modern spin on industrial material is playing romantic music while the owner grinds away in his back-lit nook. Seven friends at a large table they formed out of three smaller ones, three men and four women within a ten year age range, engage in lively conversation. A black metal frame hovering ten feet overhead has three grapefruit sized, exposed bulbs dangling over them and shining warmly. I have my headphones in but I'm not playing anything.
Maybe I just miss this sort of thing so much that I'm feeding off of their energy by osmosis.
Maybe I'm just tired of listening to my own music.
I've become more comfortable with not trying to make sense of my emotions sometimes. There isn't always a reason why you feel what you do. But bets are safe if you just opt to feel it all peacefully with outstretched arms like a four-room bed and breakfast nestled into the lush hills of Jasper Georgia, or--
Just now, the bell has rung through the plastic resting in my ears. The seven collect their things whilst dipping down and speaking over both shoulders. I fold up my paper that I have been scribbling on and follow suit. I grab a stray cup and deposit it along with my own empty tea dish on the way out. The shop owner notices the headphones and mouths a thank you. I nod and carry on.
Sometimes I like the gentle half-smiles that society offers in passing. They feel more honest.
I don't want to hear myself speak sometimes, carving from the silence and disrupting it's beauty by adding some haphazard, bumble-footed flick of paint. My thoughts are loud enough on their own. So I haven't beyond what was absolutely necessary today and I feel I've been washed clean.
The quiet is so lovely when we hold it just right.
Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence
It's a gust of apathy that whistles past and dulls it all. Makes me want to leave with a pull just as strong, but at this exact moment I'm forcing myself to sit here and write anyway.
This shop is nothing short of lovely. This shoe box full of earth tones and a modern spin on industrial material is playing romantic music while the owner grinds away in his back-lit nook. Seven friends at a large table they formed out of three smaller ones, three men and four women within a ten year age range, engage in lively conversation. A black metal frame hovering ten feet overhead has three grapefruit sized, exposed bulbs dangling over them and shining warmly. I have my headphones in but I'm not playing anything.
Maybe I just miss this sort of thing so much that I'm feeding off of their energy by osmosis.
Maybe I'm just tired of listening to my own music.
I've become more comfortable with not trying to make sense of my emotions sometimes. There isn't always a reason why you feel what you do. But bets are safe if you just opt to feel it all peacefully with outstretched arms like a four-room bed and breakfast nestled into the lush hills of Jasper Georgia, or--
Just now, the bell has rung through the plastic resting in my ears. The seven collect their things whilst dipping down and speaking over both shoulders. I fold up my paper that I have been scribbling on and follow suit. I grab a stray cup and deposit it along with my own empty tea dish on the way out. The shop owner notices the headphones and mouths a thank you. I nod and carry on.
Sometimes I like the gentle half-smiles that society offers in passing. They feel more honest.
I don't want to hear myself speak sometimes, carving from the silence and disrupting it's beauty by adding some haphazard, bumble-footed flick of paint. My thoughts are loud enough on their own. So I haven't beyond what was absolutely necessary today and I feel I've been washed clean.
The quiet is so lovely when we hold it just right.
Depeche Mode - Enjoy The Silence
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