A Writer in the Village VI

I have no idea how people are able to complete work while sitting in a Starbucks.  All I seem to do is people watch and drink large amounts of coffee.  Perhaps it's procrastination, but how can I not watch the people of this city and wonder about their stories.  I looked down at my notes and found a few pages of ideas written in point form, now they just need to be organized and written to read fluidly...to other people.  I leaned back against the window and silently stood at the edge of my thoughts...boredom can be dangerous and I take pause wondering how my darkness is doing.  I started this journey because I had been lead around by it for most of my life and now that it is stored away in a dark corner I can't help but wonder about it from time to time.  I have never felt such contentment but there are times I miss my fire and chaos that lived within me.  I giggled at the thought of having Stockholm Syndrome with my darkness...but I would be lying if I said there were't times I wanted to venture back into that corner and lay by the cage like I did with the little girl...