Old souls
Sitting at the far end of that cafe I glanced around finding nobody but the empty chairs.
Twenty four chairs and twelve tables I counted. All empty. I found it funny how each table could only sit two people.
Don't groups of friends visit cafes anymore or had this cafe become a spot for people like me?
People like me, who sit alone at their favourite table sipping hot chocolate engrossed in a book.
Who enjoy the peace and calm of being alone.
Who want to shut out the world.
Who want to write their thoughts out.
Who want to enjoy their own company.
Who don't feel at home in their own home.
Who can't make friends because they're different.
They're different for they enjoy one to one conversations.
For they love to sit and talk for three hours straight.
For they read as much as they can and discuss what they read later.
For they love to recite poems and not filmy item numbers.
For they love the soft instrumental music and not rock or pop or jazz.
For they love to paint fantasies.
For they love to get to know you thoroughly and be your friend and not just an accompany you to the mall acquaintance.
The sound of a bell broke me from my spell and I looked up at the door to find a group of nine friends come in.
The old man behind the counter smiled like he hadn't seen such sight in years.
Placing their orders they turned to the tables and froze for a moment before two of them quickly joined four of the tables together and they all sat around them, giggling.
They talked, made jokes, teased each other, laughed and ate to their hearts content.
I couldn't help but notice how even the teasing and jokes emitted the vibes of absolute love that they all had for each other.
I noticed not one of them had taken out their cell phones. That made me smile.
They went away after a while.
Clearing the tables, the old man came to sit across me and smiled at me. He said, " You, young lady, and them, are the same you know that?
You all are ... "
" Old souls " I completed his sentence.
"Old souls of the new generation " he smiled going back to his counter leaving those four tables together as they were.
Twenty four chairs and twelve tables I counted. All empty. I found it funny how each table could only sit two people.
Don't groups of friends visit cafes anymore or had this cafe become a spot for people like me?
People like me, who sit alone at their favourite table sipping hot chocolate engrossed in a book.
Who enjoy the peace and calm of being alone.
Who want to shut out the world.
Who want to write their thoughts out.
Who want to enjoy their own company.
Who don't feel at home in their own home.
Who can't make friends because they're different.
They're different for they enjoy one to one conversations.
For they love to sit and talk for three hours straight.
For they read as much as they can and discuss what they read later.
For they love to recite poems and not filmy item numbers.
For they love the soft instrumental music and not rock or pop or jazz.
For they love to paint fantasies.
For they love to get to know you thoroughly and be your friend and not just an accompany you to the mall acquaintance.
The sound of a bell broke me from my spell and I looked up at the door to find a group of nine friends come in.
The old man behind the counter smiled like he hadn't seen such sight in years.
Placing their orders they turned to the tables and froze for a moment before two of them quickly joined four of the tables together and they all sat around them, giggling.
They talked, made jokes, teased each other, laughed and ate to their hearts content.
I couldn't help but notice how even the teasing and jokes emitted the vibes of absolute love that they all had for each other.
I noticed not one of them had taken out their cell phones. That made me smile.
They went away after a while.
Clearing the tables, the old man came to sit across me and smiled at me. He said, " You, young lady, and them, are the same you know that?
You all are ... "
" Old souls " I completed his sentence.
"Old souls of the new generation " he smiled going back to his counter leaving those four tables together as they were.
knowledge, wisdom and truth...these seems a little grandiose and overly noble, but the old soul finds himself naturally gravitating towards the intellectual side of life. Old souls inherently understand that knowledge is power, wisdom is happiness and truth is freedom, so why not seek after those things? These pursuits are more meaningful to them than reading up on the latest gossip about someone's boyfriend, or the latest football scores. Before putting a name to what I felt, I experienced certain sensations of simply being an “old person in this latest generation” inside. The feelings that accompany being an old soul are usually: a feeling of world wariness, mental tiredness, watchful patience, and detached calmness. Unfortunately, this can often be perceived as being aloof and cold, which is only one of many Old Soul Myths.
ReplyDelete"Old soul myths" is a whole another world really. Often mistaken as 'boring' , 'don't know how to enjoy life ' but these old souls are the ones living life to its fullest ♡
DeleteGlad to know you :)