Coffee shops are starting to feel more and more like home to me.
There’s something unusually heart-warming about walking into a strange place, filled with nothing but the most familiar sounds, smells, and buzz of coffee beans and people—people also lost in the translation of their own laptops and books.
It seems like I’ve been a little lost lately, wandering into foreign Cafés, seeking nothing but new vibes to nurture my spirits.
Even if it’s your first step inside, a coffee shop can make you feel at home by offering you place where you can grab a drink according to your mood to sit down and dream with.
Wherever I am, I’m in my own world. A world where all my dreams can come alive, escaping from imagination to stories in my notebook.
Home to me is in writing, and strange settings offer new vibrations that I can literally feel through every written word. Vibrating from both my headphone’s “Best of Flume” playlist, and of the café’s buzz around me, a new shop gives me an energy static from page to page.
On the moon, among the stars, or in between my notebook pages, a world in which I dream, is a place that I call home. Sometimes it just takes leaving the only home your heart knows for you to find other places in which it may also belong.
Missing pieces are often found in places we never thought to look in. Places we never even knew we’d explore.