You are currently browsing the category archive for the 'coffee' category.

What am I drinking…Turkish coffee.

What am I listening to…A playlist that includes, Arcade fire, Radiohead, Rufus, Elbow and Wilco

Where am I…The Gypsy house

gypsy house

Its been a long time since I have been at the Joe having some brew(coffee) and reading and enjoying. I feel euphoric, happy, and relaxed. Its the smell of fresh toasted bagels, espressos, the random strangers with the same caffeine agenda.

All things from the past couple years of my life pile up in a messy methodical pile around me. They might be material but they represent the blessings God has given me. My Powerbook represents the great job and understanding wife I have, My iPod is also a testament of my wifes love for me. My books and music are all gems the past artists leaving their mark on the world, which I have been lucky to discover.

What is it about sitting in a coffee house that makes me so calm. I want to read, write and sit and drink, I have no feeling of urgency. No feeling that I need to be somewhere or that anything could be so important that it cant wait for me to finish a cup of coffee, a ancient drink that was believed to be give you mysterious power. Sitting in a modern coffee house imagining that a thousand years ago, an Ethiopian tribe drank this same brew preparing for battle. I love the beans, the brew that makes me want to poop and burns my stomach lining. Coffee

 

January 2010
S M T W T F S
« Dec    
 12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627282930
31  

Blog Stats

  • 10,335 hits

Flickr Photos

Loch Cill Chriosd

Blue Vs. Yellow!!

War of the Worlds

005/365 ... Winter wonderland!

More Photos

R. M. Rilke

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly pressed me against his heart, I would perish in the embrace of his stronger existence. For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror which we are barely able to endure and are awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us. Each single angel is terrifying. And so I force myself, swallow and hold back the surging call of my dark sobbing. Oh, to whom can we turn for help? Not angels, not humans; and even the knowing animals are aware that we feel little secure and at home in our interpreted world.