Drink Coffee, Read a Book, Walk Under the Sun

Expressing myself through my love of writing | Sharing photos I've taken as well as photos by others | Aiming to spread thought and inspiration

[yoursummerdreamz]

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

Cheers Lonely Heart

Where did you go? The rim of the glass has my lipstick on it, Still warm. My patience couldn't hold. I had to sip my excitement at bay. Where did you go? Come back please! Finish this bottle with me and Offer me the apology you promised to give But couldn't muster the strength to give. Talk to me! Not the pasty lifeless wall with no name. I am not the girl you met back then. I am a woman ready for life's horror and beauty. Where did you go? Come back!!! ... The red velvet stain on the wine glass Is cold. Now I guess I will finish this bottle by myself. Cheers lonely heart.

Written By: Lotus Confalonieri

December 13th, 2016

[owisteria]

whiskey&wine - hawthorn necklace

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

Rainy Monday

Three hours I’ve got

Till I need to place three more quarters in the slot,

Preventing a ticket from making a print on my windshield.

Walk fast, speedy gal.

The rain is making a damp home of your hair.

Pit pat pit pat pit pit patter.

The flats that hug my feet make tiny foot prints of sound on the city side walk.

The invisible prints, with the splash and swoosh of water waves from passing cars

Makes all other sound minuscule to my ears.

I push the swinging door open

And step from chill winter air into warm chit chat filled space.

The smell of damp clothes and freshly ground espresso fills my nostrils.

My eyes welcome the sight of relaxed people and the rustic interior of the bakery, brewery, and restaurant.

Time to get cozy on my favorite bench, with a cappuccino in my hands, a book in front of me on the table, and my bubble of comfort around me. 

Written by: Lotus Confalonieri

[gypsy-van-grrrl]

 Good Vibes Gauze Tapestry  

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

Without those trees and their branches and ever changing leaves, we would not be.

[captain-espresso]

Mocha frequent and often! Enjoy a fresh espresso. Is it (always) not latte time?

I want to get this tasty beverage

via: thecafemoments:

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

Small trinkets and keepsakes

[leselfov]

Song of the Sea (2014)

[me-lapislazuli]

Autumn impressions II | by josempg | http://ift.tt/2frfL0a

[stannisbaratheon]

What distinguishes an honest farewell from a cowardly one? An honest farewell from you–that would have been the attempt to come to some understanding with you about how it was with us, you and me. For that is the meaning of a farewell in the full, important sense of the word: that the two people, before they part, come to an understanding of how they have seen and experienced each other. What succeeded between them and what failed. That takes fearlessness: you have to be able to endure the pain of dissonance. It is also about acknowledging what was impossible. Parting is also something you do with yourself: to stand by yourself under the look of the other. The cowardice of a farewell resides in the transfiguration: in the attempt to bathe ‘what was’ in a less golden light and deny the dark. What you forfeit in that is nothing less than the acknowledgment of your self in those features produced by darkness.

Night Train to Lisbon, Pascal Mercier (via stannisbaratheon)

[kat-from-minasmorgul]

[wordsnquotes]

Perhaps the greatest faculty our minds possess is the ability to cope with pain. Classic thinking teaches us of the four doors of the mind, which everyone moves through according to their need. First is the door of sleep. Sleep offers us a retreat from the world and all its pain. Sleep marks passing time, giving us distance from the things that have hurt us. When a person is wounded they will often fall unconscious. Similarly, someone who hears traumatic news will often swoon or faint. This is the mind’s way of protecting itself from pain by stepping through the first door. Second is the door of forgetting. Some wounds are too deep to heal, or too deep to heal quickly. In addition, many memories are simply painful, and there is no healing to be done. The saying ‘time heals all wounds’ is false. Time heals most wounds. The rest are hidden behind this door. Third is the door of madness. There are times when the mind is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. While this may not seem beneficial, it is. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind. Last is the door of death. The final resort. Nothing can hurt us after we are dead, or so we have been told.

Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

(via wordsnquotes)

[jonathanohhey]

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

Days are changing. The leaves fall after they’ve transformed to into warm oranges, spicy reds, and bright ocher yellows. I wear this jacket every day and look forward to the still and quiet moments of coffee, cigarettes, and books. When I drive through downtown, the tires cause a whirling dance among the leaves that remind me of a fiery passionate ballerina . I people-watch the locals go about their day, avoiding the ones that stare down at their phones and focus more on the people in whose eyes I can see reflected the beauty of the world around them. They are in wonder, just like me, at what a beautiful home in the mountains we have.  

[coffeeriversntea-blog]

It was the second or third day of rainy weather when I drew this. I felt warm and comfortable, there with my ink and pad.

As he always does when I come in on my day off, my co worker rolled his eyes and began making my cappuccino before I even got to the register. Before setting it in front of me, he made a theatrical move of spilling it. We laughed and I mockingly punched his shoulder. There’s no kind of family that can compare to the one you make at your place of employment. Its so hilariously unique. We become so familiar and comfortable with each other. There’s always laughter and comfort, even alongside those times of frustrating stress.

Fall was here. The colors of the leaves were shifting blend modes and it had finally rained. The wind was harsh and the fall of water was an orchestra of unending sound. I wore my army green jacket and had my scarf wrapped around my neck three times. My headphones filled my ears with the Shook Twins music and my pen led my finger in a dance. It was a calm afternoon for me inside the Three Forks Bakery, and I loved it.