This is a very boring world. I'm sitting in a café, one of those places to which people flock for unknown reasons. We have to sit down together over a cup of coffee or tea so we could talk. Wooden tables, wooden chairs, wooden ceilings, wooden staircase. People muttering useless things. People sitting opposite to each other but eyes and thoughts traveling to other parts of the world. Maybe to Venezuela. People smoking and forcing me to smoke. I cough and cough, as if that would help me get rid of my anger and sadness. As if coughing could spare me the reduced years of life from passive smoking. I never planned to live long anyway. I look out of the window from the second floor, of the window that's not allowed to be opened, even if I want to escape the smoke, the deadly smoke. People pass by with different stuff in their hands. You wouldn't know if you've never paid attention. Boxes, long sticks, papers, mobile phones, bottles. Others I can't see because they're in the pockets. They might be empty but you never know. Hello, guy sitting in front of me with a lady lacking in makeup skills, can you stop talking about money and business and all that shit? You're boring me. You're boring me so much that I have to ask for the 4th cup of coffee for today. Is it true that for a guy there're only girlfriends and guy friends? If I'm not your girlfriend, then we're not friends. Have a good life. My life is not going to be any better with your wishes but thank you all the same. There're as many things I don't understand about guys as they don't understand about me, so it's a losing battle, you know. Smart people don't fight losing battles. Smart people don't fight at all. They sit at an inconspicuous corner and watch the stupid ones fight. They reap the fruits, should there be any. You know who could be your best friend? The delivery guy. He's not gonna get pissed off if you're not home when he arrives or you don't pick up the phone when he calls. He'll try again. He'll try until you open the door or you pick up the phone. And he'll have that exact same facial expression, not happy, not sad. Don't look at me that way, you. I hate it as much as I hated the poop our cat left in the center of our living room floor last night. I hate it that much. Your eyes are sincere and your words true. You remind me of a friend that I had long time ago. Do you find it sad when you refer to a living person with the past tense? A friend that I had. You have to start somewhere, that's what they say. Or else you never get anywhere. But get where? You lost me again. When you keep talking for more than 5 minutes non-stop, there's a good chance that you'd have lost me. Like you've lost that friend whom you'd refer to with the past tense. But what's lost can be found, no? At least you can find me. Maybe in 5 years, when I'd be a little more mature and a little less dreamy. But then you'd not be you and I'd not be me, what's the point in you looking for me? Told ya, it's a very boring world, in the sense that if you're logical enough, you could never make sense of it. So it's better if we're just insane. Of all the people I know, I never see anyone else the way I see you. I have a very big piece of paper on this wooden table, that's why I've written so much. I'm trying to occupy all the space so that there's no hiding place for mysteries. Mysteries like those hands inside the pockets of their winter coats. Sorry, what were you saying? See, my memory is that bad.
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