September is my favourite month in the whole year. Especially in NYC, it's that time when the heat is starting to fade away, the sun is out and there is a sweet warmth in the air but not unbearable hotness...like August.
My heart is drowning in nostalgia as I sit in Starbucks, Circular Quay, sipping on my iced latte...I am dreaming of being in Starbucks NYC, near 51st and 7th....watching all the unique characters pass me by...some look like they're from another era, other another life, another world....others look just like me....or someone I know....
I remember when I was in NYC, I would often sit in Starbucks, watching people, thinking about their world, where they have come from, where they are going, what they're thinking right this minute. The scars they're carrying, the memories, the haunts of the past and the delights of their present....the love they've experienced, the loss, the heartache, the adventures, their highs and lows, they're likes and dislikes.
Everyone has a story and every story is as touching, beautiful and tormenting as the next and all so valuable. There's beauty in everyone's ashes....Right now, I want to know everyone's story. I want to sit in Starbucks sipping my iced latte, picking on my buttered banana bread, against the buzzing backdrop of NYC, and listen...just be still and listen to ...everyone's story.
Tell me your story....my mind, body and soul craves for it.
My heart is drowning in nostalgia as I sit in Starbucks, Circular Quay, sipping on my iced latte...I am dreaming of being in Starbucks NYC, near 51st and 7th....watching all the unique characters pass me by...some look like they're from another era, other another life, another world....others look just like me....or someone I know....
I remember when I was in NYC, I would often sit in Starbucks, watching people, thinking about their world, where they have come from, where they are going, what they're thinking right this minute. The scars they're carrying, the memories, the haunts of the past and the delights of their present....the love they've experienced, the loss, the heartache, the adventures, their highs and lows, they're likes and dislikes.
Everyone has a story and every story is as touching, beautiful and tormenting as the next and all so valuable. There's beauty in everyone's ashes....Right now, I want to know everyone's story. I want to sit in Starbucks sipping my iced latte, picking on my buttered banana bread, against the buzzing backdrop of NYC, and listen...just be still and listen to ...everyone's story.
Tell me your story....my mind, body and soul craves for it.
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