Thursday, April 21, 2011

Incoherent thoughts from an infantile fifteen years old girl's head.

      I'm sitting here at the Drowsy Poet with my coffee cake an hot tea and all though I'm alone I'm not lonely. I have Dickens, Tolstoy, Melville and many others to keep me company. I keep getting strange looks from other early morning coffee shop goers. Something about opening a book and smelling it is foreign to them. They don't known that I prefer the smell of a book to the rich aroma of burnt Brazilian coffee beans that fills the air around me. They don't quite understand how the words of someone long dead can be sweeter then my coffee cake and richer then the the aroma around me and bring me comfort. When I'm sitting alone, people say I get an empty expression about my face; but in reality, it is a look of awe. I've heard my voice echo off the walls of the Sistine Chapel as well as smelled the stale odor of it's indelible colors. I've walked the broken down streets of London in the 1800's , and I've been tossed around a ship in the middle of pirated waters. The smell of salt in the air is burning my throat. Disease and malnutrition are ingrained in the very materials this ship is made of. I'm sick of seeing grays, blues and dim skies, I've been on various adventures across the world and it's not yet 7 am. More then that, I've been in this same seat for an hour. Anybody who is a reader knows how this is possible. I hope to fall in love with someone who realizes how important reading, books, and the imagination are to me; someone who realizes I wasn't sure how everything tied together in my life because I hadn't met them yet. The plot was incoherent because I was missing the main character; the one who completed the story. The climax of my book will be when I meet you, whoever you may be. My life may not have some huge twist or fairytale ending, but when I look back and read the sweet words and smell the rich aroma that fills the pages, I wont care because its what you fill your book with that matters. I want God to fill my book. I want Him to so permeate my book that when I meet you, you wont be attracted to me, but you will first see God in my life and that's what attracts you to me.

This is exactly what I wrote down in the short time I was at the drowsy poet. It's my meaningless, incoherent thoughts but I hope you enjoy this little piece of me.

2 comments:

  1. I love this!!!! This is soo amazing. And I too agree that traveling the world through an inky portal of dead writer's thoughts is much sweeter than brazilian coffee or sweet desserts.

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  2. Thank you so much! I'm glad you agree :)

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