coffee

i never noticed how the coffee shop seem sad. it seems to have memories. in some ways, it seems it's been here for such a long time, where old ladies could come to remember friends and times spent over coffee in their younger days. there is an immortal sadness over the mortality of the human race. the whole world seems to remember that people have lived, died, and been forgotten. but you can only find that memory in the quiet places. the world doesn't want to remember, and the busy-ness often drowns it out. but if you are still, sometimes you can hear the wind or the music, the trees or the old architecture whispering of the people that are forgotten and the memories that no one has recorded.