Wolfinwool · Grounds in my Coffee_4-enhanced-v2-80p

There are fewer patrons than we normally experience, but that is a result of the mid-afternoon timing. A smattering of young women camp out on the east end of the dining area, pecking away at their laptops—no doubt writing and rewriting theses or some report for their professors.

A heavyset woman waits for her order at the pickup counter where she leans heavily. She seems barely able to hold herself erect as she fidgets uncomfortably. Unlike most people we see waiting in the modern age, she doesn’t even bother to mindlessly scroll through her phone. She just stares thoughtfully into space. Perhaps she is contemplating the maw of existence. It must have been a long day.

Conversely, a fit, middle-aged mom bounds in the door, complete with ponytail and workout attire. I assume the energy is from a post-exercise high. She is likely full of serotonin, norepinephrine, and dopamine. No doubt the clock is against her as she races to fuel up before picking up the kids from school across the street. She is loud and brash, whereas the heavy-leaner is quiet and introspective.

At our table, my significant other complains that her coffee tastes of tea. This may be true, or it may be that the last time we were here, they brewed the coffee in the teapot for some forgotten reason. So now, she just assumes this is standard operating procedure.

“I should complain,” she tells me. “I'll tell them, ‘I'm a coffee connoisseur, and I can tell!’ That'll get them to think twice before serving this swill.”

I encourage her to complain, but I suggest that a kinder approach may net a better cup of coffee versus the gauntlet-thrown-down technique she is considering. No one likes confrontation. There are grounds in her coffee in any case.

Across the parking lot, under a mural celebrating sweet treats, three strangers rest on the sidewalk, eating their frozen yogurts. One chatters on his phone while the other two converse easily. Their proximity together on the curb suggests they are a group of friends, but the visual separation makes it clear the woman and one of the men are a couple. Whatever came earlier in the day, these three are having a high moment in their lives—one of those periods you think about years from now and say, “Wow, life was so much better back then.” And they'll wonder what became of one another.

Even though it is winter, the afternoon has a warmth in the full sun that makes it a perfect setting for all of us. The heavyset woman and her fit counterpart have moved on to their next moments. The college girls continue their hours-long efforts at education. And we chat aimlessly about it all and laugh at our secret observations, having a memorable moment ourselves, grounds or not.

Who wouldn’t want that?

Complete abandon, trust, longing, want. Absolute acceptance.

It’s playing on the radio right now, while I wait in the car. It’s making me really kind of sad—wistful maybe.

Thing is, there are really beautiful sentiments. Some experiences I've certainly had. Some of these things I don’t think I’ll ever get to experience.

That’s not fair. Of course I will never not get to.

But.

Making love to you was never second best—for a variety of reasons that lands in me.

I think I never really understood this lyric… right now it’s hitting as: the world is turmoil but there is an island of calm. This face brings peace and harmony-safety, belief, trust. Not out of obligation or loyalty, but karmic chemistry.

This is a place I’ve been. In person and in imagination—for a time just being out of time and place. More of the woe-displacement. For you. With you.

Limerence, an elevated existence. More just wanting to be out of time. Out of place. Apart from a world that is only concerned with art, beauty and love in regards to how much income it can generate.

Of course, ME’s intent is for the speaker to make his pilgrimage to her, to save himself. I've always heard it as my own pilgrimage to save this human's race. Possessive, to save my people. A life spent with the express intent to save as many who wish it.

In the process, I think—I think I worry I may have lost my own race. This is as yet unresolved. But wolf's doing his damnest, he's still melting, still finding grace and the pilgrimage— maybe it's not an end, but stops along the way. The pilgrimage is the journey, one that never ends, but demands experiencing.

 I see some changes and I guess life is getting better. Certainly aspects are much improved. But other pieces of me, parts that got away in the stream of time and want back... they feel like less improvement and more loss. But, perhaps the point is that you can't advance without loss. Only ever keeping what we have, good or bad, doesn't leave room for the new. Doors close and doors open. I don’t know, but that seems to be the nature of life.

The future's open wide

ME herald's the call, the declaration over and over. Longing want? Or expressed intent? Maybe they're saying, what-the-hell-ever comes, I'm always going to have this—if you're here with me or not—the melting is what I have. It's what I give. It's what I want.

After all, the future's wide open.

And maybe that’s the truth I keep circling: the world won’t actually stop, not for me, not for anyone. But every once in a rare while, something — a face, a memory, a song from 1982 drifting through a car radio on an ordinary day — reminds me that melting is still possible.

That the part of me built for surrender, for dissolving into another soul, hasn’t gone extinct. The race isn’t lost. Maybe it was never a race to begin with. Maybe it’s just a long pilgrimage toward the few moments where everything unnecessary falls away and what remains is simple, human, incandescent connection. And if those moments still exist, then so do I.

Moving forwards, using all my breath

Making love to you was never second best

I saw the world thrashing all around your face

Never really knowing it was always mesh and lace

I'll stop the world and melt with you

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

There's nothing you and I won't do

I'll stop the world and melt with you

Dream of better lives the kind which never hate

Trapped in the state of imaginary grace

I made a pilgrimage to save this humans race

Never comprehending the race had long gone by

I'll stop the world and melt with you

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

There's nothing you and I won't do

I'll stop the world and melt with you

The future's open wide

The future's open wide

I'll stop the world and melt with you

I've seen some changes but it's getting better all the time

There's nothing you and I won't do

I'll stop the world and melt with you

The future's open wide

I'll stop the world and melt with you

You've seen the difference and it's getting better all the time

There's nothing you and I won't do

I'll stop the world and melt with you

I'll stop the world and melt with you

I'll stop the world and melt with you

I'll stop the world and melt with you

I'll stop the world and melt with you