Outside the Window

    Outside a window you can see many things. It depends on where you are. You can see a certain beauty you will only see once or maybe a tragedy that shook everyone. I sit on the inside only observing, observing lives. Hundreds of different personalities, hundreds of different stories some with similarities. All of those people thinking of different things, going different places. I see families. I see lone wolfs. I see people that want to be loved. I see introverts and extroverts. I see cars and buildings. The thing is about being inside the window is you can’t get to know all these people. Every single one of those people have a story. Every single one of those people are different. Some are in their highs of life and some are in their lows. Some of those people want help, others need it. Some of those people won’t own up to who they are or admit they’ve done wrong, and others obsess over how wrong they were and feel like they can’t change what they’ve done. Another thing about being inside the window is you don’t know who is in pain and who’s not. Sometimes it’s obvious you see the tears, but other times it’s not they hide it with a smile. Everyone has their own ways of dealing with things. I see people meeting each other and people leaving each other. On the other side of the window sits me, in a small coffee shop in this little town I live in. I guess I’m trying to find inspiration. The sun could be shining or it could be pouring and I will still see people pass by outside the window.