How autumn makes me feel

The leaves are gone.

autumn

+ I was taught how to draw leaves by my 6 year old cousin, so please don’t judge.

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What’s the colour of tea?

It’s easy to describe what tea tastes like.

It can taste strong and bitter, and very sweet at the same time as heaps of white sugar were added to fix its flavour. Little Asia did not like plain tea when she was 8 years old.

It can taste of fruit and spices as producers tend to fool people into thinking that fruit infusions that they buy are actually made of leaves of Camellia sinensis. They are not.

It can taste of paper, if you bay this sort of cheap teabags that taste of nothing but cardboard and dirty water.

It can also taste of friendship and love and actual Camellia sinensis, and perhaps of jasmine or roasted ricem or of a Finnish sauna (tribute to Lapsang Souchong*).

 

But how to describe the colour of tea?

With the same words? “Tea has the colour of Earl Grey”. What kind of grey is Earl Grey?
Not grey at all.

“Tea is red”. True, but not true. Aspalathus linearis is red. Tea isn’t, no matter what importers of African red bush tell you.

“Tea is black”. Hey, why you bein’ racist here.

The debate gains a whole lot more dimension when we start talking about the British style tea. When you add milk to the usual black beverage, you can add just a splash, a couple of splashes, you can fill half of the mug with milk, or do a freaking tea latte (add vanilla syrup and you get a London Fog). After all, if you find yourself making tea for a British person, they’d usually tell you to add “just a bit of milk” and then, once you bring the cup to them, they’d judge if you made it the right way by looking at the colour of the drink.

Say, first world problems. The colour of tea.
I suppose I spent too much time in the UK to overlook the importance of tea.

Anyway, what is the colour of tea?

Now as I’m sitting at the rail station and waiting for my train, and it’s 5 o’clock but the sky’s already gone its night colour, I come to conclusion.
“Tea has the colour of the sky, where the sky is brown”.
I suppose in this situation the daytime sky would have the colour of a stirred caffè latte.

 

*Since this post is dedicated solely to tea, I allowed myself to write tea type names starting with capital letters. Pardon my insolence.

50 posts and 1 comment, my life achievement

Today WordPress kindly notified me that I have written 50 posts on my blog so far.

I know you read my posts. After all, I share them on Facebook.

And real life happens on Facebook. Right?

If I’m not friends with you on Facebook, we can’t say we know each other.
If I don’t write that I go to such-and-such college, I don’t go there at all.

Then, what’s so difficult about expressing your own opinion?
Is it too exhausting to type? Too exhausting to think for a while, instead of just “liking” a post or clicking “share”?

Call me an attention seeker if you want. I am not searching for attention. I am looking for a discussion.

To make life a bit less boring and miserable.

Why do I feel old?

I am 19 years old. In less than 2 months I’ll turn 20.

And I feel old.

*

If you’re reading this and you’re 13, you might think: “well, sure! ‘Cause you ARE old!”. But I assume that most of my readers are closer to my age or even slightly older and they have no reason to confirm that indeed I should feel old.

Why do I feel this way?

Maybe because nowadays 8 year olds receive mobile phones.

Children master the skill of using a tablet at the age of 4.

And people younger than me have babies. They even get married.

Is it the time to get serious? Is it the time to start looking at wedding dresses, wedding rings, estate magazines, and retirement savings plans?

In today’s world, the whole Age System is messed up. Children behave like adults, become celebrities, have make up done and start their own businesses; adults act like children, play games on smartphones, do university degrees afresh, and go to dates as if they were 15.

I am not judging it as wrong – it would be cruel to forbid anyone from feeling young “again”. Yet, it is not okay if young adults – like me – involuntarily feel like it was too late for them to make mistakes and be unsure about their future. Young people have more possibilities, and hence more is expected from them. But we cannot feel pressured to save the world at the age of 18 and pay our own bills since we are 14.

How old are you, and do you feel old?

If you’ve tackled a problem like mine, how did you do it?

Why I’m not at the graveyard today

First: no, this is not going to be about why I haven’t killed myself yet. It’s about why I stayed home instead of packing myself into a car to go to a graveyard.

Today’s the 1st of November. Which, according to the Polish tradition, is the saddest day of the year (with the exception of the 10th of each month*).

Millions of Poles make their way to cemeteries to celebrate All Saints’ Day. The point of the holiday is to commemorate relatives and friends who passed away, as well as the people who no longer live but they were forgotten about. Shops, schools, and institutions are closed to allow people to reunite with the fallen and spend the day with family and in peace.

As I said, the saddest day of the year. Because who would want to spend the day whining among graves and chrysanthemums? (I call chrysanthemums “the plant of the dead”. If you put it somewhere else than on a grave, you’re a freak).

Besides, due to an increased road traffic, 1st November experiences a higher number of car accidents than an average day. People die on their way to light candles on the dead people’s graves. Isn’t it ironic?

Another downside of driving miles to a cemetery is extra petrol used and extra fumes produced. 1st November marks the point when the air quality in Poland goes from “poor” to “unbearable”. The heating season blooms, and the smoke coming from chimneys combined with car exhausts turn the air into a choke-generating gas. A reasonable solution, then, is to visit a grave when you have an opportunity to.

So what am I doing today, if not freezing my fingers off at the cemetery? Sitting on my bum in a comfortable chair at home?

That, as well. As any other autumn evening. But today I would much rather take a walk in the park and spend some time with nature.

The dead are just present in a forest as in any other place in the world. Their spirits are no longer on the Earth, and ours will go away too when we pass away. This is the cycle of nature. Most of the time, we forget that and think we are immortal, and take everything so seriously, as if social media faux pas or chipped nail polish mattered the most in the world. That is not the case.

Just take a walk in the park. You’ll notice it looks completely different from what it did back in June or July. There are no longer blooming flowers and green leaves on the bushes; there are dead plants, fallen leaves, and bare wigs on the tree crowns.
This does not mean that nature is pretty in summer and ugly in autumn. Nature is beautiful all year long. As long as it’s pure and not spoiled by the human.

But a walk in the park is the best way to reflect upon the cyclicality of life. Life – of a plant, an animal, a human – starts with a seed which develops, grows, lets the first leaves and then fruit, and then it reproduces and its offspring grows, and the life becomes weaker and eventually dies.

This happens to all of us. No matter what magnificent structures we build or what diseases we learn to cure, we are no different from giraffes or apple trees. We’ll die and that’s okay. But as long as we live, we should do our best to make the world beautiful and produce the best things we can.

So if you don’t want to visit a cemetery today, don’t feel guilty. You can spend the day differently and still get the message that it carries – but don’t restrict yourself to the walls of your flat and really, get yourself out into The Great Outdoors.

 

*Confused much? Just ask. Or use Google.

 

Are we all product-driven?

Zrzut ekranu 2017-10-27 o 21.10.02

How devastating is this?

The world is product-driven, Craft says.

I have to agree; yet, it depends on what kind of product you mean. If we are talking about the produce of plants, life-giving vegetables, fresh water, and oxygen – the product of photosynthesis, then it is all right. We indeed are and need to be driven by these products. Nothing will change in this matter.

However, when it comes to often unnecessary products of human hands and machines, the topic becomes a whole deal more nasty. Computers? Mobiles? Designer clothes? Lipsticks?

If you’re driven by the desire to get the newest model of an iPhone, you should know you’re in some kind of trouble.

I am not here to act like a parent and give talks on what you should and should not do. I am not here to lecture on the harmfulness of being focused on obtaining material goods rather than spiritual peace.

But I am here to uncover facts, turn your attention to the problem, and suggest ways on how to solve it.

So why don’t we all just stop caring so much about what we want to have. We already have shedloads of things; our homes are overspilling with stuff.

If you want to be materially rich, move to a rubbish dump. There’s plenty of things that no one wants – you would be the master of all of that! After all, as we know from the motto of this year’s Clean Up The World Action Poland (Sprzątanie Świata Polska) – there is no waste, there’s resources.

If you don’t want to move to a rubbish dump, understand that things do not make a human rich. Experience, education, and happiness make a human rich.

Invest in that.

 

Source of image: Craft

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The saddest autumn

This is the saddest autumn of my life.

Today is sad, tomorrow will be sad, the day after it as well, and every single day until autumn officially ends. Which is 21st December, inclusive.

My life may seem great. I am living in my country with my family, I have a job in one of the coolest cafes in town, my coworkers like me and I am not bullied, I get delicious free lunches at work, I can have proper coffee whenever I need it, I got an internship at the editor’s office of a magazine that I used to be obsessed with, I have a lamp that Scandinavian people use to prevent depression, a new tea store and yerba mate just opened in town, I have a Sunday job where I can have gingerbread whenever I want and where my boss allows me to use his impressive library, I live in the most beautiful street in town, plus my town has some of the most famous architectural complexes in Europe, I had met Lewis Watson 3 times and Charlie McDonnell once in person, a month ago I went to Paris, I have flight tickets booked for next month to go to Edinburgh visit some of my friends I made at university, etc…

Everything should be fine.

But it isn’t. Why not?

There are a few reasons. Let me count them.

(1) Doctors. Doctors, doctors, doctors. They constantly want something from me. Those that I don’t want to see need me to see them, and those that I really want to see AOAP (As Often As Possible) have really busy schedules and can only give me an appointment every 6 weeks.

(2) I am not at university.

While

(3) All of my friends are.

Okay, not ALL of my friends are at university. Actually, most of the people I see on an everyday basis either have not started uni yet, or they had already graduated.

Which does not make me any more happy.

Am I comparing myself with others? To some extent I am, given that I often think “all of my clever friends are at university, which means I am not as clever as them“. But it really means nothing to me that a lot of people of my age are not at university, and they are either in full time employment, or doing nothing with their lives and living off their parents’ money, or doing anti-drug therapy because they’re junkies.

What’s the way to stop comparing myself with others, then?

Perhaps to do my thing. Get better at it. Find a passion and focus on it, instead of my flaws. And work harder, work hard on the stuff that matters.

And do something with this world, because it really is poisoning our minds at the speed of light. Especially if you live in a city. “Civilization”, they call it.

Bollocks.

A fika a day keeps depression away