Tuesday, 20 May 2014

The last coffee

Most people don't get to know when the last coffee with someone is going to be – life is just rolling on and then one day a change comes and you never get to have coffee with them again. It’s just a shift in seasons. That’s why I never leave anything unsaid. Most people don’t get to exercise this sort of commitment in the Real world. Not to themselves, at least. I am too old and far too loved not to know when crazy comes to town. Like a string you keep on tugging – and then it breaks – I always feel deep and rich sadness and then there is calmness and good memories again.  

I will miss my job at the movie theater like a bitch. This was such a fun time. I actually really liked every minute of it – there were only two instances in which a customer was rude and I was too tired to parry, but there were million scenes of friendliness and chatter. I miss a myriad of excellent things that I experienced there daily already - I will miss making the plans. Not so much being treated like the village idiot, but I will miss the lessons learnt.

I will miss the old ladies, chatty Cathies that loved the films and loved the books and love this city. I will miss the artist caste of this town, coming in opinionated and passionate. I will miss Niko, stomping in unexpectedly with his scowl and a pack of orphans, like Snufkin with his 27 kids. I will miss the waitresses. I will miss the operator and his strange, strange otherworldly patience with the world. I will miss the other 300 avid cinephiles, and their secret lists. All this inspired me to pursue other careers in culture. I developed vast ambitions for it, and an odd sense of encouragement from everyone I met.

I am not designed for serfdom. Too much of an absolute passion in everything I do. I am not designed to be content with credit. I only do as long as it makes me happy. I love to work. Don’t love being told what to do, funny enough. Leave me alone, let me make my magic. There will be some tactical regrets, obviously. The balcony will be one. That was an amazing balcony. The movies. Clearly. New friends. It is too easy to say ugly things about quiet people. The last casualty will probably be the newly made contacts. Ah, the quality of my performance. Ah, my childish inability to take the bullshit. Ah, being compared to my sister. Nay, ye Gods, anything but that!