coffee shop diary #4

the difference between coming here for himself and coming here for nicotine was beyond pronounced, it was real. tonight he was here for a smoke. he felt like he was cheating if he came in and asked some person for one, so he obviously had to buy a drink. small house for here. even though he didn't want to stay he had to. it might have been the fact that coffee this good shouldn't be drank from a paper cup, that would be like drinking wine from a martini glass, or it might have been the fact that this was the only place in the world he could really be at home...but it's never home when you came needy. it's never home when your brain can't tell your body anything except gimmie gimmie gimmie. it's never home when you feel like you have to buy a drink just to bum a cigarette and you have to stay and be late for your engagement because you really need it.

it wasn't home tonight.

he tried to make it so, he found a book, he even challenged the genius to a chess match and played it through and played it well. but it was all for a cigarette. all for a fucking stick of cancer that once you start thinking about you can't let go ever without complete and total personal failure. if you can't find a cigarette you'll never have a shot at finding yourself...but he couldn't find either tonight.