Still Need Supplies

Life has taught me I still need to learn more. I'm 21 during the second month in the 2012 year of our lord when I started this, and all I know is I'm still learning. I'm going to be an English teacher and husband; as well as a father. Basically this blog is a sneak peak into my mind for one moment in time.

(Source: oxcroft, via chivalry-happens)

Samuel Beckett

literarystarbucks:

Samuel Beckett goes up to the counter and orders a water, then goes to sit and wait. After what feels like an eternity, but is in reality only two acts, the barista calls his name and hands him an empty cup.

Hamlet

literarystarbucks:

Hamlet goes up to the counter and can’t decide what to order.

e.e. cummings

literarystarbucks:

                                                                                          up

e.e. cummings     g              o              e                s

to the counter &orders

an icedvanillalatte

he

       sits.

                                                                                              waits.

                     onetwothreefourfive minutes

until the baristalady   w h i s t l e s   his name—

"how do you like your coffee, mr. poet?"

George R.R. Martin

literarystarbucks:

George R.R. Martin goes up to the counter and orders a series of incredibly complicated drinks, each more detailed and layered than the last. The barista works for an hour and finally hands them across the counter to Martin, who promptly throws one of them away with little to no explanation. That coffee had been the barista’s favorite.

Gaiman

literarystarbucks:

Neil Gaiman goes up to the counter and orders the Salted Caramel Mocha. While waiting for his order, Gaiman begins a conversation with an elderly woman sitting by the window. She weaves for him a long story, filled with old fears and familiar monsters. The protagonist seems more and more…

Yossarian

literarystarbucks:

Yossarian goes up to the counter to order a latte. He pulls out $3.00 to pay for it, but the barista informs him the price has recently gone up to $3.50. Yossarian has to run home to get fifty more cents, walking along a street full of murderers, rapists, child molesters; fires burning in every window, the acrid smell of smoke burning his nostrils. By the time he gets back, the price of a latte has been raised to $4.00.