278 Coffee Shack
[image: self]
It was in the middle of nowhere, hidden by the high mountains and inside the simplicity of life. I was reading George Orwell’s Animal Farm and enjoying my cup of cofee, a cheap one, generic type of coffee you can find from any market. It wasn’t grinded with coffee maker and blended with foam, there was no such goddamn thing here. Just an already grinded coffee packaged inside plastic mixed instantly with hot water. The ordinary coffee enjoyed by the prolet, nothing fancy about it, but I feel more human each time I sipped it, since no one rich around to talk about how expensive their freakin car was or how inferior this coffee was and another reasons how they should never go to this lousy place in the future. Yes, just move to Starbucks, you snob!
But they never set their foot here to get the coffee, there is nothing to brag about here, the nothingness is the simplicity I enjoyed here. There is nothing bad of being enough.
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Excuse my french but, This post makes my mind spin at the speed of dark.
Comment by ZX-14 lady — August 7, 2010 #