People.

I’m sitting here, in my usual chair, in my usual coffee shop, in my usual corner minding my own business and doing nothing more than writing an essay whilst carefully observing each individual I am surrounded by.

A mother with her child and another woman are situated in the chairs next to me, socialising over what were two full cups of hot coffee. Her child has sat the entire time opposite me watching each and every move I make and now her mother appears to be communicating with her, something of which I fear she has lacked the entire time I’ve been sat here. Children get easily sidetracked, they’re curious little investigators forever immersing themselves in something they feel as though will give them a sense of belonging.

I can hear the faint muttering of a couple whom sit opposite each other, both with phones in their hands, most likely continuously scrolling up and down their Facebook and Twitter feeds aimlessly searching for something else to get lost in. Awkward. Now, this child is still staring at me, however this time she is stood up walking around her mums chair; most likely out of boredom and ignorance.

A man stands alone outside smoking his cigarette, chatting away in a phone call I cannot hear because I’m inside. I see him though, and I observe these things. I watch hands move and pace quicken as the conversation tone changes and funnily enough, despite not being able to actually hear the conversation, these hand movements and the body language presented by him is enough to give away that the phone call is not actually that serious.

Probably just his girlfriend or business partner, I assume by the sheets of paper work sat on the table outside in front of him.

These are people. People of the every day, the ones with lives full of interesting stories and twists and turns. They bless the chairs in these coffee shops, they speed walk up and down our city streets, they run in the train station with their briefcases to ensure they’re on time for the last train.

These are the people that flee their war torn countries in desperation for fear that they’ll be taken prisoner; these are the people that we shun and push away out of our own fear that they will endanger our country. These are the people that sit on kerbs in street corners shying away from the discrimination and hatred, these are the people that spend all night in A&E because they spent a life time trying too hard to cope on their own.

These are the people who get so caught up with work that they forget how to socialise, these are the people with bags under their eyes from no sleep and these are the people with ridiculous amounts of cash but no idea what to do with it all. These are the people that are still in education trying to figure out what they want from their lives; these are people that are so covered in tattoos and piercings that you can barely see their skin underneath, or their facial features for all of the metal hooked on to them.

These are people, all kinds of people. These are people that despite living in the city, are painfully lonely; these are people that have too many friends but not enough time for each of them; these are people that are happy, people that are sad, people that are grieving and people that say there is absolutely nothing wrong but actually have essays of problems backed up in their heads.

These are people.

We are people.

 

 

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