There is an art in finding ones-self.
Let us look for example in the gentleman sitting outside the Cafe just over there. He sits alone at a table in need of cleaning, a cold coffee and stale pastry in front of him. He is lost in his own thoughts, wrapped up in his own world whilst waiting it would seem for things to happen.
We could stand here for an age! Perhaps all day or maybe for just a few hours. What would our eyes tell us? What would our impressions of this man be?
Without knowing him or talking to him, without looking into his life, without doing these things would we ever know him at all?
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
We look around him and find that the street is bustling. People walk past as patrons to the cafe come and go and no-one really pays him any attention. Likewise, he does not notice them.
Or does he?
AS we look more closely we find that the occasional person catches his eye. Is that a look of scorn? Is that one of attraction?
What goes on in his mind? What are his thoughts?
So many questions.
Do we really need them all answered?
What is he to us?
Jut another face in a crowd, another person on the street. A nameless soul just one of billions that draws breath, another figure that exists and lives on an overcrowded world inhabiting an expanding country in an ever bustling town.
Let us go over to sit close by and watch. Let us creep into his mind, change our eyes, see the things that others cannot.
Let us see what it is about this person that draws us to him like a moth is attracted to a flame burning bright and hot.
We cross the street. Find a similar table. Sit unnoticed just as he does.
We shall watch, we shall listen, perhaps we will learn.
What time is it? I’d look at my phone but I hate doing that. I mean! I ask you? Look at them all! Nearly all of them with phones in their hands. Its terrible really. All so very sad. I should wear my pocket watch. I like pocket watches.
Oh! Hello there.
Hello. You drinking that coffee?
Not really. You’d think making a decent cup coffee was hard. Its amazing how many of these so called cafes and and coffee shops get it wrong.
I know. Bad really but hey, what can you do?
Go home and make one yourself!
Ever the smart arse.
Yes, but of course.
Notice how he smiles. Some private joke maybe or has he noticed something that has amused him? But, again, how quickly the smile was replaced by a frown. Why is that do you think?
Wow that was a bit random!
What? Thinking about the cats?
Yes. Struggling to remember all their names.
Well, We did have a few.
I know, loved them all, treated them not as good as I should of at the end. The deserved better.
Couldn’t be helped. You did the best you could. Hard times.
Maybe, but still; not good enough.
Oh good, look who’s turned up?
Yes, not the one we would have hoped for or liked to have appeared to join in.
Oh stop your moaning. It could be worse, you wouldn’t want all of us to be here would you?
Not really, that would get a bit crowded.
And we only have the one pastry.
And the smile returns.
How clever are we if we were to look just that little bit closer at this strange person sitting there. If we look around would we notice what others may have missed? The way he moves as he reaches for his cup, the way he drinks, those odd little discrepancies in movement and gesture. See his outline blur as he does so. Where once there was two in what we first took to be a trick the light, now there seems to be three! Or; are there more? Pay attention to and notice the shadows unattached that surround him and the shadows that separate on the ground beneath him.
Are they tricks of the eye?
So then! What have you got for us?
Well, you were thinking of the good old days and we can’t have that. We live too long in the past and have too many tomorrows to look into. We have such wondrous stories to tell, poems and prose to let loose upon the world.
Sink into dream states
find adventure without fighting
open eyes living in closed dreams
where nothing is real
and reality is never quite what it seems.
We thought so.
This is a strange fellow indeed! See now how he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a notebook and pencil, writes with very little concentration as if the hand is controlled by another.
This is someone we could watch all day.
But, alas, we have other tasks to attend to.
So we must leave him to his own devices.
Hey. Did you lot notice that guy? The one getting up from the table over there! The one whose crossing the road, dressed like some twit hipster.
Yes, what of him?
He was paying way too much attention to us.
I wonder why?
The pencil carries on writing.