An Ordinary Morning |
Posted: February 27, 2015 |
Here I am, like any other day, sitting in my corner at the cafe, drinking kopi luwak coffee from my favorite cup. The owners know me, the waitresses know me. They are used to me coming down in my pajamas and my own mug, asking for a cup of kopi luwak coffee and a cream cheese bagel. I do this every morning. It is the favorite part of my day. I will wake up, look out the window, contemplate whether to get out of bed or not, and then remember that my kopi luwak is waiting for me at the same usual cafe I always go to. I don't even remember how it began. Maybe it was the time they began serving kopi luwak. I just got up and went down without ever needing to change my clothes. Maybe it was during that time when I was mourning over my loss. I had stopped caring about the world and I think it was showing on my face. Maybe I didn't even know what I was wearing. Whether I was wearing anything at all. It did not matter anyway, now that she was gone. I think the only reason they even served me was because they could tell I was from a well-respected family. Of course you could not tell that from my clothes, but there is this quality people have about themselves, and I think it spoke for me. I had shiny long hair, tiny diamond earrings and silk pajamas, even when I was in my pajamas. If you are weird enough, you can do anything you want in life. Just try it. And I looked sad. Really sad. I had just lost my grandmother and I did not believe I could care about anything at all in life any more. I must have really surprised them. A girl walking through the door in her silk pajamas, a butler running after her explaining that they have recently lost a beloved family member... I don't remember if they got mad or if they felt sorry for me. Like I said, I did not care. When you are sad enough, you can get away with anything. You have to be really sad though. Sad enough that you should be numb. They can tell if you are faking it. You cannot fake true sorrow, deep sadness that leaves your eyes sparkless. When my parents learned about my ritual, they tried to stop me. They tried to keep me in the house and I did not object. I just sat by the window and stared outside with empty eyes. I think they were expecting some sort of fight. Some sort of resistance. When I did nothing, they stopped trying. They let me go down and enjoy my breakfast. I think the cafe staff had missed me, too. Now I still do it every morning. Sip my coffee, think of her and wish we could sit there together, watching the world go by... Check this site that you've entrusted with your additional information.
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