i'm in the "it" place to be according to a handful of people deemed influential by a series of metrics and analytics. i've made it--the journey to the coffee shop is over and i've scored a spot perpendicular to a window so my pseudo-friend can take a photo of me and i can tag the "it" coffee shop on social media. we all know natural window light is the best for photos--it reveals our narcissism and vanity--how more accurate could you get?
to escape the dark roast cynicism i flee to the mountains to be among masses are much larger than mine. the sound of silence is deafening and i'm convinced i could listen to it all day until my ears started to bleed. it's the realest thing i've ever known.
they are my mother and father, exposing me to the elements, unapologetically. they are bitter cold in the winter and full of life in the spring. they force me to confront my insignificance and mortality, but also challenge me to overcome difficult terrain, all for the view at the top.
i await the moment that i get to return to the mountains, but for now, visions of their beauty remain fresh in my mind, like the cup of coffee i'm sipping on from the "it" coffee shop.