I’m here, seated at a corner of a coffee shop, watching the world go by and mulling things over inside this little head of mine. It’s interesting to look at all these people in their straight suits go in and out the doors, sharing trite and brief good mornings as they go past each other. All of them rushing to get somewhere, keeping their schedules tight. All of them prancing about to the tune of clickety-clacking heels, blaring horns and brewing coffee. And I honestly think it’s a little crazy that people spend each day in such a manic state.
I’m here, with a pen and paper in hand, writing whatnots and hopelessly wishing that the girl at the table in front would at least try and chew her food. Is that how expensive time got? That none of us can even enjoy and actually taste our meals? Every waking minute seems to be dedicated to killing ourselves early so we could get colorful pieces of printed paper in return. And it scares the hell out of me. But in a world where success is measured by the amount of stress you can bear, you really can’t do anything about it. You just got to try and keep up and pray that you don’t lose your mind before you’re 40.
Seriously, pray.
beauesprit12 