In a coffee shop

Have you ever looked around a public place and thought that a simple exchange from someone meant so much more? Is there a message in these movements, is there this strong connection made, what the hell is there?

I look up and right away these sudden movements occur from different people. The scratch of a nose, a shoulder shrug, a halfway smile. How crazy is it to think some of these things meaningful? But the timing, it’s so precise! I know these movements are directed towards me, but why? Is this some call to action for me? Am I needed now? Why am I so convinced these movements are so important and are directed towards me? There is something more, there must be. I think about my life. Have I just recently come to think these things?

Why can’t I be satisfied with the day to day life? That is of course what I’m unsatisfied with. I feel like I always have been and that I fixate on my dissatisfaction. So, what happens as a result you might ask? Here’s what happens: You start to think strangely… think, think, think. You start to make things up, elaborate stories, fantasies, adventures. Idle time becomes play time. What you perceive as orderly, normal, or trivial becomes more harmful on your psyche than experiencing physical pain. Your body is of little importance to you. You want to believe that these exchanges tell a story, or maybe rather, that they fit into your story. When these moments occur, it’s as if you’re thinking “Ah-Ha! That movement, I knew it would occur, I knew it. And wow, it happened here and now. I just looked up!” So then come these thoughts: I could go and talk to her. Her half smile and body language seemed so revealing. Her subtle eye contact makes me believe that I am in fact the object of her attention, but it seems equally clear to me that she is trying to be coy. This encounter is the start of something unexplainable. But what happens after, though? The possibilities are so captivating that I don’t even move or maybe it’s that I just can’t. I just think about what could be… think, think, think. After I feel like I should approach her, she’ll leave in haste and I’ll just feel so sorry. I feel like having to watch her leave in the manner she did was her reprimanding me for being such a nothing. I’m sorry for living in my head. Sorry for missing an opportunity for conversation, sorry for not even living. Just sorry.