Coffee-powered musings of a Romanian living in London

Flat White.

We make sledges out of our courage.

Drive them tirelessly through

the winter of our silence.

and lose our tracks in the snow;

but that's ok.

We never wanted to be found anyway.

We just wanted to ride our sledges

into complete oblivion,

into and out of their sight

and not to leave one single mark

in their pristine snow.

Spanish latte.

These people, they look like my people,

but their eyes are beady

and their words so needy.

They hug like my people,

but their hands are spiky

and their fingers sticky.

They feel like my people,

if my people

had hollow hearts and

putrid breath.

Someday I will unmask them,

but until then

I'm gonna fit in

just like their people.

Double Espresso.

Loneliness is a state of soul.

Sometimes it fades by itself,

like a weird dream,

other times it wraps you up

like a mother without a child.

It's never enough.

You're never lonely enough.

You're never enough.

Drop me a line. Will get back to you after I've had my coffee.