Confession of a coffee addict



24Hours without coffee. It’s the greatest hell I could possibly imagine. And I’ve proven that it is the greatest hell. The most horrible day of my life, filled with grumpiness, headaches and continuous depression.

A life without caffeine is not for me. There is nothing better than getting up in the morning, make some strong, hot coffee and then crawl back to bed. Sitting wrapped up between the cozy blankets, filled with warmth and dreams, smelling the fresh morning in the breeze that comes through the open window, and reading, maybe put up some soft music.

There is nothing better than that.

Normally I hate committing. Whether it’s things, places or people, but coffee…I am committed!

I once tried to stop drinking coffee. Reason? I can’t remember, but I bet I had some stupid reason.

It took me a week before I realized I couldn’t do it.

When I first stopped I had in my mind that it would be three days, the headaches, the fatigue, the longing and desire would be gone.

Around day five I started to get worried, I felt sick. Weak and lifeless…first I thought I had Anaemia, then I thought I had a brain tumour… Someone suggested I just drink some coffee. So I did, instantly I was healed.

I haven’t looked back since.

Some people have jobs, others have husbands, houses, tattoos…I have coffee and being a compulsive, moody person.

It’s 1:32 AM now.

I have a night routine, I don’t sleep when its dark, simply cant. I put the lights of around midnight, I lie in bed for about an hour, checking the time every five minutes, I can never fall asleep without knowing the time, when I wake up the next morning I can know exactly how long I slept, then after about an hour of laying in the dark I get up, put the light back on, turn the computer back on and then I write, or read. I’m still obsessed with Michael Robotham, some nights I don’t turn the lights back on, I simply read on my cellphone. I sound like the most bookish bookworm, I’m not. I just happen to read at night…and mornings. During the rest of the day I stay occupied with my studies, gardening and cooking.

This is all actually my “coffee-drinking-routines” fault. It’s that fifth to sixth cup that I drink around 8pm.

This is how it works; I wake up around 8, I drink my first cup. Then I go walk around outside for a little while(wandering), I come home drink a second cup with breakfast.

Around 10 I hit the books, I drink another two while I’m studying. This all before lunch.

Somewhere between 3 and 4PM I drink one somewhere outside in the gardens. Sometimes I drink coffee with lunch. Depends on how much sleep I’ve had in the last few days.

I have my last cup a little while after dinner(around 8Pm).

They say(however I have no idea who “they” are) that one cup of coffee per day is very good, very healthy. It stimulates the brain, practically making you smarter.

But after that it just messes with your kidneys, practically dries the poor things out. So I know that drinking as much coffee as I drink is not very good. In fact, I could be seriously harming myself? So I try to drink allot of water. ALLOT.

First thing in the morning(before coffee) I down about 500ml…trying for 1litre. And then before and after each cup of coffee I drink another glass(and it’s not the only times in the day that I drink water) and then I always end my day with another 500ml before bed.

I’m trying to save my kidneys. Some days it’s hard to keep up, and I’m just not thirsty. But I’ve been putting in a real effort to drink that water regardless.

And Its working. My skin is great, not dry, I have no problems or marks. Nothing. The only inconvenience is the fact that I’m always rushing of to the bathroom to empty my bladder.

Coffee it is.


Beetle Friend

It’s strange how fast a bond can come between two living species. Even if it is just a strange insect with sticky claws and big antlers that comes jumping against your window in the middle of the night.

It’s the most terrifying, scary, horrible, soul wrecking feeling. Sitting there, having just gotten over your fear for this amazing creature, you start to notice how amazing those six little feet are formed. Literally the sole of his paws look like a ripped body builders six pack. And he has six of those! Six six-packs.

On his back(or wings) there’s these patches of gold. It is as if the stars had decided to form the universe on the wings of this little creature.

When you look at him, even those long antlers don’t seem scary any more. It’s amazing how this creature is formed. He can’t help what he is, he can’t even think about what he is. It’s not even scary any more. It’s beautiful. Wondrous to think that a strange creature like this exist.

That strange, greenish, brown body no longer even looks scary. His whole existence smiles at me.

And then, when you’re sitting here having this deep connection with this creature, literally almost sitting face to face having a conversation…when suddenly he just get lost from your sight, stuck between someone’s slipper and the wall. It’s shattering. Heart breaking.

It’s the loss of a friend.

Some days I hate our race. Humans. It has the same ring to it than Cannibals, Killers, Monsters. Why is it that everything we can’t control, we destroy? Or rather, why do we destroy, kill and poisoneverything. All to gain power. Power to rule this planet, to be the most dominant species.

We have the power to rule, why is then that we think we have the right to control life? We have the say over what lives are worth living, to all those animals, fish and six legged life carnying creatures. Why is our lives more important than that of a Cricket, or a Moth. A Rino.

Days like this I just want to promote veganism and donkey carts. But I don’t believe that is the answer, I’m not Vegan because I think it’s animal cruelty…it is, but I think veganism is the way to go to save the Human race. It’s very monstrously-human of me. Maybe there is just something vile in our species. “Survive!”, we scream. Through our entire lives, from the moment we are born to the moment we die; that is all that we do.

We have so much power to do good, to save my insect friend. We still would have been talking. I would have tamed him and let him stay in my garden. He could eat the pine trees bark, that tree has too much bark any ways.

The excuse for the bearer of that slipper was that my friend would have killed the hundred year old fig tree that stands in front of the house…and maybe he would have enjoyed a few meals of tree bark. But the killer also could have protected the tree simply by wrapping some plastic around the foot of the trunk. Tree saved. Friend saved. Human saved.

But this only managed to get out after my friends death, some shouts of anger, tears and swearing.

Yet, we still don’t understand our place. Do we?

But one lesson learned: insects are friends too. Although…I still hate spiders.

Learn to value life. All life.

No life is bigger or greater than another. Unless the essence of life comes in shapes and sizes. But for that to happen, we would first have to know what life is. And most of us haven’t really even lived a day in our lives.

I take insects seriously. Very seriously. I love the small creatures, those that are petite and powerless against the strength of a human slap, kick or stomp.


It was just a beetle.

A judge of classic philosophers: Aristotle

Whenever I see I quote that I love, without knowing the author, I know chances are it’s probably something Aristotle said or wrote. Without ever really knowing anything about him besides that he was a great philosopher in ancient Greek times, I’ve always loved his words.

I think my passion for philosophy really only started when I had to go learn…well, everything about Alexander the great. Here I was introduced to the Classical age, and I fell in love. For two months I sat glued to my office chair (the chairs name is Bean), reading Plutarch mostly and watching age old movies about Alexander and all his expeditions and adventures trying to conquer the world.

It was also here that I was “formally” introduced to Aristotle, having being Alexander’s teacher.

I remember, it was at the end of one of these movies that I cried, having felt so moved by what Aristotle said about Alexander after his death…of course now I can’t even remember what he said.

I always had a very clear image in my head about Aristotle, that he was a great man, and I still think he is, but comparing him to Socrates…

I recently read Aristotle’s Philosophy in an hour by Paul Strathern, just to understand who he was a little better, and to capture the outline of his philosophies. At the same time also reading the works of Plato, which is Socrates conversations, I’m not done with this book yet, I’m not sure if I’ll ever get to finish it. It’s Plato’s life work.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to read about two of the greatest philosophers this world has ever seen in the same week, but it gave me a chance to compare their characters.

What caught me most, almost disappointed me about Aristotle was that after Alexander’s death when the Athenians rebelled against the rule of the Macedonian’s(which seems silly now, since it’s all just seen as Greece in today’s world more than two thousand years later) he ran away. To save his life, which makes it understandable, everyone wants to live, besides after they made such a scene with Socrates death Aristotle didn’t want to give the Athenians the chance to kill of two philosophers. It all makes sense, but where it stops to make sense is that just a year after he fled, he died. And I fully believe that he died because he didn’t feel he had anything left to live for. He had left his life’s work, the Lyceum, which was his life. It’s the whole reason why we still know of his existence, it’s why he is the great figure that he is today, thousands of years later.

But wouldn’t he have made so much more of an impression, made a better end for himself if he had stayed and stood for what he believed in; which was his works and his studies. He didn’t want history to repeat itself, to die like Socrates, but I think Socrates was wiser, and Aristotle should have stood by what he said.

Wherever a man has taken a position that he believes to be best, there he must remain and face danger without a fear of death or anything else.”

Aristotle has always been my favourite from those first three philosophers, perhaps because he was also a writer. But I wish he had made a better ending.

But here I go, writing my opinions of other peoples lives, judging them for their actions. But I think the time between their lives and mine has been long enough that my judgement won’t really matter quite so much to them any more. I might as well have judged the characters of one of my fiction books. And if by some chance, oh great Aristotle, I have said anything that offended you…strike me dead with lightning!

I don’t think he would be quite so insecure that my opinion of his death will matter enough for him to feel offended. So putting it straight out: I think he acted cowardly by fleeing the capital and his home, along with everything he had created and built throughout his life.

But personally, I would forgive him his actions because I would have done exactly the same. Only to realize later on, the same as him, that my actions was in vain.

Weekend Edition – 5 Questions to Ask When You Don’t Know What to Write

I don’t usually like to reblog posts, but this is one post that I’d want to come back to again and again. Not because I feel uncertain of what kind of writer/artist I am, but simply because I believe that there is always a place to learn something new. Especially when it comes to the artistic side of things. I will never be as good a writer as I want to be, because I will always want to be better, to know more, understand more, feel more…
I’ll try to come back to this post again and again and rethink and discuss every question.

Live to Write - Write to Live

How to Figure Out What [You Really Want] to Write:

mary oliver wild lifeWhen I first saw the movie Contact, I was deeply envious of Jodie Foster’s character, the dedicated and driven astronomer, Dr. Ellie Arroway. Her single-minded pursuit of the truth about extraterrestrial life impressed the hell out of me. She was on a mission, a quest. She wasn’t going to let anything stand in her way. She believed in something, and that belief shaped every detail of who she was and how she lived her life. Because she was sure about what she was doing, she was able to throw herself into the work without reservations or doubts. Her approach was a full-court press that channeled all her energy and effort into achieving a single goal.

I would like to know what that feels like.

··• )o( •··

So far, my writing journey has been more pantsed than plotted. I…

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Change, in search of Motivation

There are certain thoughts that go through my head just around ten-to-ten. Thoughts like my untouched Business studies notes. All the books that I want to read. An empty wheelbarrow that I still want to plant things in. The book that I’m writing, but lately has been going very slow. I even think of this blog. First post are allot of pressure.

Some days I’m motivated. Like yesterday; I got up before seven(I’m not an early bird), went for a jog. Succeeded at finishing up with my morning routine before nine. And I had a successful day of studying. I ate healthy, no one annoyed me, I never felt anger or grumpiness seep into my soul. I felt excited about what I learned.

And then there are those days…utterly unmotivated. Alarm goes off…twice before I finally make it out of bed, decide its too windy outside(and too late in the morning) to go running. I decide on coffee in bed with some history, but then I end up getting distracted by social media and birds up in the fig tree in the back yard. Its creative day with my mom, but she’s not home so you have no idea what to do with your morning. End up not studying, not planning, cutting my finger on a piece of glass, getting angry and frustrated… The point is: I hate those days.

But how do you fix them? How do I fix it?

First of all I think I need to face facts and I need to make a list of things that I can do to help prevent these horrid days to have any power in the future, maybe even help someone else out that has similar problems.

1. My study space has lost it motivational effects – putting up new motivational pictures above my desk, sorting out my desks drawers along with my bookshelves. Putting up my weekly study plan and a month planner.

2. If I have no plans, I do nothing all day – start planning out every day, with a “plan B” if the first plan doesn’t work out. Do this the night before.

3. I tend to overwork at the beginning of a new school year, and it always breaks me – taking some VERY PLANNED time off. And not stretching myself to a breakining point.

4. Just like I overwork, I also tend to get a little “stuck in my ways”, just doing the same old things. Reading detective novels(Michael Robotham), stu-dying, looking up new recipes. They’re all kind of the same thing, in my world anyway. – expanding my horizons with new things like…like. Like? I guess I have to put it up there on my weekly plan to get in some arts and crafts, mountain climbing, and day dreaming. All on a weekly basis. Say Tuesday is Philosophical history, it goes well with day dreaming. Wednesday mornings is creative day with my mom, so if she’s not home I should make plan B to automatically get out my sketch pad and some paint brushes. Saturdays are usually the day that I spend with a very dear friend called boredom, so I can make some plans with a couple of friends to go hiking or something.

5. There are a few things in my life that has been sitting on my shoulders/my “plate” from last year. – Get them done! (I’m building a wall with cob, its sort of the last piece of a little building.)

Five things? It’s seems like a small list. All of them easy, fun things to do. It makes me wonder why I had a problem to begin with? But the hard thing is, that even if I do all these things, and it still doesn’t work, what then? I guess then I’ll just have to push through. Maybe take a course in staying motivated.

I’ll probably have my answer same time next week, after beer can appreciation day on sunday. And that hike.

Not really what I had in mind for a first post, but the philosophy of Socrates, or the difference between good and evil wouldn’t really have been a good pick, or very suitable for a post that should have something to do with new beginnings, or rebirth or even change. Change is always a good thing. After all, I didn’t make any plans or promises. This a a decent first post. Not much skill needed, didn’t overspill on the complaining or moping.

Here goes. Its almost eleven, I need to go do that day plan for tomorrow, and then of to bed after a few chapters of Michael Robotham.