Coffee Shops

I pulled into the parking lot across the street from the locations that I had been undecided between the whole drive. It was Thursday a little after 4:30 a little too warm for it to be mid October however Fall had been completely downloaded into the trees and the air had that crisp smell that only New Englanders would ever truly know.

 I looked across the street at the establishments I had been weighing the pros and cons about both of which were side by side, maybe I could start out at one and then make my way to the other, I stood there and thought hard. I started walking to the go to spot though my choice was still unclear, however I stopped myself turned around in the direction of my car to retrieved my laptop and ventured fourth again. Coffee shop it is! I figured that I have spent enough time in a bar to last me a lifetime and at the coffee shop I could at least get some work done and beat this writers block once and for all.

When I walked in I thought to myself "Oh God, I'm one of these f*****s with my sweater, laptop and latte. Maybe I should download a Bon Iver album talk about pro choice topics with some snooty liberal arts major, or better yet a philosophy student that has the whole world figured out." I looked around upon entering and what I saw surprised me, 'Holy s**t!' Every single hipster cliché in one confined space, touché.

The cute little couple out back pretending to hang off each others every word, high off caffeine and overflowing with sexual tension. The poetry girl in the corner with a timeless book, a beautiful compilation of English Literatures most influential writers that she had brought for show as she was too busy taking pictures of it next to her coffee for social media. Too bad she didn't crack it open and start reading, not for her sake but for the worlds sake, she would realize that she has no idea what the f**k she is reading after the first paragraph quit the artsy act and stop trying to be somebody she's not.

The lady behind the counter looked like the 60's had made a love child with the Victorian Era, split the sheets, forcing the child to grow in a broken home made of flowers, dilapidated architecture, and self entitlement. I walked past the kid beating the bongos and the girl singing up to the counter. "Hello Sir," she said. "What can I get for you?" I ordered a Pumpkin Spice Cappuccino like a typical white girl and as the words slipped out I felt myself die a little inside.

 I hated the fact that I enjoyed those and that oddly enough I seemed to fit into the crowd at this place on this particular day. What are these people? Honestly I can't figure it out it's like an alien race that came to earth formed an outpost and recruited their own set of passive aggressive warriors looking to change the world in their own head without physical action. Everyone here has an opinion based of no factual knowledge or experience whatsoever, this meaningless thought is the identity they embody while they use coffee, indie bands, and fashion to separate themselves from the world while they choke on ignorance and superiority which they deem art.

 In this culture nothing seems to make sense, everything from music to writing appears to be about everything yet profoundly nothing at all. This is a culture where people constantly seek acceptance, cookie cutter bandwagon jumpers that seek approval and understanding from the world based off of their incoherent ramblings. I should have went to the bar, at least there the sad f***s that drink themselves to death take ownership of the narcissistic behavior and as the saying goes a "drunk man speaks a sober mans heart." What happened to vision and knowledge?

 When did everything get so twisted? How is it that music, fashion, and a longing to be completely different yet exactly the same influence the mind when the mind is what creates and empowers all of the above? I do not see any purpose here, what I see is a sea of drones wandering the desert looking for a promised land that doesn't exist and never did.

 The conversations and laughter that are born in this atmosphere find themselves being offered up into an abyss that lacks motivation and influence, convolute thoughts disappear into emptiness only to reconvene tomorrow. Life has stood still yet at the same time fast forwarded leaving this changed world within a world untouched lacking originality and pumping out unspoken soldiers like a factory. As I watch the patrons leave I see them disappear into the distance knowing that I will soon be venturing out myself. My coffee is finished now, wish me luck as I re-enter reality.