I look outside. A woman pushes a walker on wheels across the crosswalk. The dog next to her is happy, tail wagging. He leaps ahead, then falls back, matching her pace by oscillating between complete excitement and feigned confusion. On the sidewalk is a stick and a leaf. The leaf is so dull that it is nearly the same color as the sidewalk, a neutral light grey, beaten by rain and covered in the thinnest film of dirt.
Another dog scurries past, urgently and importantly. This black and white pup is running while the woman on the end of the leash is pulled along, lunging large steps. The big window almost shakes as each of her feet pounds the earth, left then right, left then right, keeping pace and making good time.
Inside the cafe the old howl of the electric guitar and flailing drums is on the overhead speakers, the music hangs above our heads like a celestial fresco in a cathedral, as we drink tea and coffee, and look out the window at dogs and people. We are the observers. They are the observed.
The cafe is like a big glass bowl. In this aquarium, we are the fish, looking out rather than being looked in on. Social media is also a bit of a fishbowl. We are the fish looking out, as well as being looked in on. Observation is two-fold. We are observed, while we are making observations. In social media, it's like the cafe, except the voyeurism is circular.
Break the cycle. Express thoughts in pure observation. Start a blog that no one reads. Live a little.